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M  The  Changed  Cross,"  "  Thi;  Shadow  of  the 
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AND 


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Compiled  by  the  Editor  of 

''THE  CHANGED  CROSS;"  UTHR  SHADOW  OF  THE  ROCK;""  "THE 
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The  Selections  in  this  volume  have  been  chiefly 
made  from  the  religious  newspaper  and  magazine. 
The  compiler  has  sought  to  avoid  the  reproduction  of 
poems  already  embraced  in  "  The  Changed  Cross" 
"  The  Shadow  of  the  Rock"  "The  Chamber  of 
Peace"  and  in  other  similar  collections.  The  names 
of  the  writers  have  been  given  so  far  as  they  could  be 
ascertained. 

October,  1879 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

Princeton  Theological  Seminary  Library 


http://archive.org/details/agateoOOrand 


AT  THE  BEAUTIFUL  GATE, 


AND    OTHER 


RELIGIOUS    POEMS. 


ftt  tlje  Beautiful  (Sate. 

LORD,  open  the  door,  for  I  falter, 
I  faint  in  this  stifled  air. 
In  dust  and  straitness  I  lose  my  breath ; 
This  life  of  self  is  a  living  death, 
Let  me  into  Thy  pastures  broad  and  fair, 
To  the  sun  and  the  wind  from  Thy  mountains  free  ; 
Lord,  open  the  door  to  me ! 

There  is  holier  life,  and  truer, 

Than  ever  my  heart  has  found ; 
There  is  nobler  work  than  is  wrought  within 
These  walls  so  charred  by  the  fires  of  sin, 
Where  I  toil  like  a  captive  blind  and  bound ; 
An  open  door  to  a  freer  task 

In  Thy  nearer  smile,  I  ask. 

Yet  the  world  is  Thy  field,  Thy  garden  ; 

On  earth  art  Thou  still  at  home. 
When  Thou  bendest  hither  Thy  hallowing  eye, 
My  narrow  work-room  seems  vast  and  high, 
Its  dingy  ceiling  a  rainbow  dome — 
Stand  ever  thus  at  my  wide-swung  door, 

And  toil  will  be  toil  no  more. 

(5) 


AT  THE  BEAUTIFUL  GATE. 


Through  the  rosy  portals  of  morning 

Now  the  tides  of  sunshine  flow, 
O'er  the  blossoming  earth  and  the  glistening  sea 
The  praise  Thou  inspirest  rolls  back  to  Thee ; 
Its  tones  through  the  infinite  arches  go ; 
Yet,  crippled  and  dumb,  behold  me  wait, 

Dear  Lord,  at  the  Beautiful  Gate. 

I  wait  for  Thy  hand  of  healing — 

For  vigor  and  hope  in  Thee. 
Open  wide  the  door — let  me  feel  the  sun — 
Let  me  touch  Thy  robe — I  shall  rise  and  run 
Through  Thy  happy  universe,  safe  and  free, 
Where  in  and  out  Thy  beloved  go, 

Nor  want  nor  wandering  know. 

Thyself  art  the  Door,  Most  Holy  ! 

By  Thee  let  me  enter  in. 
I  press  toward  Thee  with  my  failing  strength ; 
Unfold  Thy  love  in  its  breadth  and  length  ! 
True  life  from  Thine  let  my  spirit  win  ! 
To  the  saint's  fair  city,  the  Father's  throne, 

Thou,  Lord,  art  the  way  alone. 

To  be  made  with  Thee  one  spirit, 
Is  the  boon  that  I  lingering  ask, 

To  have  no  bar  'twixt  my  soul  and  Thine ; 

My  thoughts  to  echo  Thy  will  divine ; 

Myself  Thy  servant  for  any  task. 

Life !  life !  I  may  enter  through  Thee,  the  Door- 
Saved,  sheltered  forevermore ! 


UNDER  ORDERS. 


Unbcr  (Drbcrs. 

WE  know  not  what  is  expedient, 
But  we  may  know  what  is  right ; 
And  we  never  need  grope  in  darkness, 
If  we  look  to  Heaven  for  light. 

Down  deep  in  the  hold  of  the  vessel 

The  ponderous  engine  lies, 
And  faithfully  there  the  engineer 

His  labor  steadily  plies. 

He  knows  not  the  course  of  the  vessel, 
He  knows  not  the  way  he  should  go ; 

He  minds  his  simple  duty, 
And  keeps  the  fire  aglow. 

He  knows  not  whether  the  billows 

The  bark  may  overwhelm  ; 
He  knows  and  obeys  the  orders 

Of  the  pilot  at  the  helm. 

And  so  in  the  wearisome  journey 

Over  life's  troubled  sea, 
I  know  not  the  way  I  am  going, 

But  Jesus  shall  pilot  me. 

I  see  not  the  rocks  and  the  quicksands, 
For  my  sight  is  dull  and  dim ; 

But  I  know  that  Christ  is  my  Captain, 
And  I  take  my  orders  from  Him. 


8  THE   TIME  IS  SHORT. 


Speak,  Lord,  for  Thy  servant  hearcth, 
Speak  peace  to  my  anxious  soul, 

And  help  me  to  feel  that  all  my  ways 
Are  under  Thy  wise  control ; 

That  He  who  cares  for  the  lily, 
And  heeds  the  sparrows'  fall, 

Shall  tenderly  lead  His  loving  child  : 
For  He  made  and  loveth  all. 

And  so,  when  wearied  and  baffled, 
And  I  know  not  which  way  to  go, 

I  know  that  He  can  guide  me, 
And  'tis  all  that  I  need  to  know. 


®l)c  Coiocst  place. 

GIVE  me  the  lowest  place :  not  that  I  dare 
Ask  for  that  lowest  place,  but  Thou  hast  died 
That  I  might  live  and  share 
Thy  glory  by  Thy  side. 

Give  me  the  lowest  place  ;  or  if  for  me 
That  lowest  place  too  high,  make  one  more  low, 

Where  I  may  sit  and  see 
My  God,  and  love  Thee  so. 


i 


(Tljc  (Time  io  Gljort. 

SOMETIMES  feel  the  thread  of  life  is  slender, 
And  soon  with  me  the  labor  will  be  wrought; 


THE  TIME  IS  SHORT. 


Then  grows  my  heart  to  other  hearts  more  tender. 

The  time, 
The  time  is  short. 

A  shepherd's  tent  of  reeds  and  flowers  decaying, 

That  night  winds  soon  will  crumble  into  naught : 
So  seems  my  life,  for  some  rude  blast  delaying. 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 

Up,  up,  my  soul !  the  long-spent  time  redeeming ; 
Sow  thou  the  seeds  of  better  deed  and  thought ; 
Light  other  lamps  while  yet  thy  light  is  beaming. 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 

Think  of  the  good  thou  might'st  have  done,  when 
brightly 
The  suns  to  thee  life's  choicest  seasons  brought  ; 
Hours  lost  to  God  in  pleasures  passing  lightly. 

The  time, 
The  time  is  short. 

Think  of  the  drooping  eyes  thou  might'st  have  lifted 

To  see  the  good  that  Heaven  to  thee  hath  taught ; 

The  unhelped  wrecks  that  past  life's  bark  have  drifted. 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 

Think  of  the  feet  that  fall  by  misdirection, 

Of  noblest  souls  to  loss  and  ruin  brought, 
Because  their  lives  are  barren  of  affection. 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 


io  THE   TIME  IS  SHORT. 


The  time  is  short.     Then  be  thy  heart  a  brother's 

To  every  heart  that  needs  thy  help  in  aught ; 
Soon  thou  may'st  need  the  sympathy  of  others. 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 

If  thou  hast  friends,  give  them  thy  best  endeavor, 

Thy  warmest  impulse  and  thy  purest  thought, 
Keeping  in  mind,  in  word  and  action  ever, 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 

Each  thought  resentful  from  thy  mind  be  driven, 

And  cherish  love  by  sweet  forgiveness  bought ; 

Thou  soon  wilt  need  the  pitying  love  of  Heaven. 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 

Where  summer  winds,  aroma  laden,  hover, 

Companions  rest,  their  work  forever  wrought ; 
Soon  other  graves  the  moss  and  fern  will  cover. 

The  time, 

The  time  is  short. 

Up,  up,  my  soul !  ere  yet  the  shadow  falleth  ; 

Some  good  return  in  later  seasons  wrought ; 
Forget  thyself  when  duty's  angel  calleth. 

The  time, 
The  time  is  short. 

By  all  the  lapses  thou  hast  been  forgiven, 

By  all  the  lessons  prayer  to  thee  hath  taught, 
To  others  teach  the  sympathies  of  Heaven. 

The  time, 
The  time  is  short. 


CUMBERED  ABOUT  MUCH  SERVING.      1 1 


To  others  teach  the  overcoming  power 
That  thee   at    last   to   God's   sweet   peace   hath 
brought ; 
Glad  memories  make  to  bless  life's  final  hour. 

The  time, 
The  time  is  short. 


(Dntumrbs  or  fjomewarbs. 

STILL  are  the  ships  that  in  haven  ride 
Waiting  fair  winds  or  turn  of  the  tide ; 
Nothing  they  fret, 
Though  they  do  not  get 
Out  on  the  glorious  ocean  wide. 
O  wild  hearts  that  yearn  to  be  free, 
Look,  and  learn  from  the  ships  on  the  sea. 

Bravely  the  ships  in  the  tempest  tossed, 
Buffet  the  waves  till  the  sea  be  crossed  ; 
Not  in  despair 
Of  the  haven  fair, 
Though  winds  blow  backward,  and  leagues  be  lost. 
O  weary  hearts,  that  yearn  for  sleep, 
Look,  and  learn  from  the  ships  on  the  deep. 


Cnmbcrcb  about  mncl)  Seining. 

CHRIST  never  asks  of  us  such  busy  labor, 
As  leaves  no  time  for  resting  at  His  feet , 
The  waiting  attitude  of  expectation 

He  ofttimes  counts  a  service  most  complete. 


l  2      CUMBERED  ABO  U T  M UCII  SER  VING. 


He  sometimes  wants  our  ear — our  rapt  attention, 
That  He  some  sweetest  secret  may  impart ; 

'Tis  always  in  the  time  of  deepest  silence 

That  heart  finds  deepest  fellowship  with  heart. 

We  sometimes  wonder  why  our  Lord  doth  place  us 
Within  a  sphere  so  narrow,  so  obscure, 

That  nothing  we  call  work  can  find  an  entrance ; 
There's  only  room  to  suffer — to  endure ! 

Well,  God  loves  patience !    Souls  that  dwell  in  still- 
ness, 

Doing  the  little  things,  or  resting  quite, 
May  just  as  perfectly  fulfill  their  mission, 

Be  just  as  useful  in  the  Father's  sight 

As  they  who  grapple  with  some  giant  evil, 
Clearing  a  path  that  every  eye  may  see ! 

Our  Saviour  cares  for  cheerful  acquiescence, 
Rather  than  for  a  busy  ministry. 

And  yet,  He  does  love  service,  where  'tis  given 
By  grateful  love  that  clothes  itself  in  deed ; 

But  work  that's  done  beneath  the  scourge  of  duty, 
Be  sure  to  such  He  gives  but  little  heed. 

Then  seek  to  please  Him,  whatso'er  He  bids  thee ! 

Whether  to  do — to  suiTer — to  lie  still ! 
'Twill  matter  little  by  what  path  He  led  us, 

If  in  it  all  we  sought  to  do  His  will ! 


FROM  EGYPT  TO  CANAAN.  1 3 


.from  Cgiipt  to  Canaan. 

MY  God,  while  journeying  to  Canaan's  land, 
For  peace  I  do  not  pray, 
Nor  seek  beneath  Thy  sheltering  sweetness,  Lord, 

To  rest  each  circling  day ; 
I  cry  to  Thee  for  strength  to  struggle  on, 

But  do  not  ask  that  smooth  the  way  may  be ; 
Sufficient  for  Thy  servant  'tis  to  know 
That  earth's  bleak  desert  ends  at  last  with  Thee. 

I  do  not  ask  of  Thee  that  loving  friends 

Should  wander  by  my  side, 
Or  that  my  hand  should  feel  an  angel's  touch, 

A  guardian  and  a  guide  ; 
But  Israel's  God,  do  Thou  go  on  before — 

An  ever-present  beacon  in  the  way ; 
A  fiery  pillar  in  dark  sorrow's  night, 

A  cloudy  column  in  my  prosperous  day. 

I  do  not  ask,  O  Master  dear !  to  lean 

My  head  upon  Thy  breast ; 
Nor  seek  within  Thy  circling  arms  to  find 

An  ever-present  rest ; 
I  beg  from  Thee  that  crown  of  prickly  thorns 

That  once  Thy  sacred  forehead  rudely  tore : 
And  I  will  press  those  crimson  brambles  close 

To  my  poor  heart,  and  ask  from  Thee  no  more. 

But  when,  at  length,  my  scorched  and  weary  feet 

Shall  reach  their  journey's  end, 
And  I  have  gained  the  longed-for  promised  land, 

Where  milk  and  honey  blend, 


14  QUIETNESS. 


Then  give  me  rest  and  food  and  drink,  dear  Lord ; 

For  then  another  pilgrim  will  have  past, 
As  Thou  didst,  o'er  the  wastes  of  barren  sand 

From  Egypt  into  Canaan,  safe  at  last. 


£  I)  c    ®  i  £>  t  g  . 

UP  the  long  slope  of  this  low,  sandy  shore 
Are  rolled  the  tidal  waters  day  by  day; 

Traces  of  wandering  feet  are  washed  away, 
Relics  of  busy  hands  are  seen  no  more. 
The  soiled  and  trampled  surface  is  smoothed  o'er 

By  punctual  waves  that  high  behests  obey ; 

Once  and  again  the  tides  assert  their  sway, 
And  o'er  the  sands  their  cleansing  waters  pour. 
Even  so,  Lord,  daily,  hourly,  o'er  my  soul, 

Sin-stained  and  care-worn,  let  Thy  heavenly  grace^ 
A  blest,  atoning  flood — divinely  roll, 

And  all  the  footsteps  of  the  world  efface, 
That  like  the  wave-washed  sand  this  soul  of  mine, 
Spotless  and  fair,  smooth  and  serene,  may  shine ! 


(El  n  i  c  t  n  c  s  s . 

T  WOULD  be  quiet,  Lord, 
J-     Nor  tease,  nor  fret ; 
Not  one  small  need  of  mine 
Wilt  Thou  forget. 


"LO,  /  AM  WITH   YOU  ALIVA  Y."  1 5 


I  am  not  wise  to  know 

What  most  I  need  ; 
I  dare  not  cry  too  loud, 

Lest  Thou  shouldst  heed  ; 

Lest  Thou  at  length  should  say  : 
"  Child,  have  thy  will ; 

As  thou  hast  chosen,  lo  ! 
Thy  cup  I  fill !" 

What  I  most  crave,  perchance 

Thou  wilt  withhold, 
As  we  from  hands  unmeet 

Keep  pearls,  or  gold  ; 

As  we,  when  childish  hands 

Would  play  with  fire, 
Withhold  the  burning  goal 

Of  their  desire. 

Yet  choose  Thou  for  me — Thou 

Who  knowest  best ; 
This  one  short  prayer  of  mine 

Holds  all  the  rest. 


"£a,  3  am  tmtl)  tjou  QUroan." 

NIGHT'S  shadows  lengthen  till  they  meet  and 
close, 
The  mists  are  chill,  and  frost  doth  white  the  tree; 
Vet  Jesus  speaks  from  out  the  night  of  woes, 
"  Unto  earth's  end  I  ever  am  with  thee  !" 


1 6  THE  LORD  IS  RISEN  IX DEED. 


Endless  the  changes  that  take  place  around — 
Stars  pale  and  sink  into  the  moonless  sea, 

And  empires  proud  lie  ruined  on  the  ground — 
Yet  doth  He  whisper:  "Still  I  am  with  thee!" 

Lights  glimmer  o'er  the  drear  and  treeless  wild, 
Then  disappear  ere  yet  the  shadows  flee ; 

But  in  the  pathways,  'tween  the  rocks  up-piled, 
Thy  light,  O  Saviour,  ever  is  with  me ! 

Low,  low  upon  the  midnight  grass  I  fall, 
Weary  of  treading  paths  I  can  not  see ; 

"  Rise  up,  my  love,  my  fair  one  ! "  Thou  dost  call ; 
"  I  will,  my  Lord,  since  Thou  art  still  with  me." 

In  crooked  ways  I  read  Thy  golden  scroll — 
Thy  pledge  of  everlasting  help  to  me — 

I  read,  am  strengthened ;  though  the  billows  roll, 
Thou  sayest :  "  My  child,  I  ever  am  with  thee  ! " 

Ever,  my  Saviour,  till  the  earth  doth  end — 

Yes,  through  the  ages  of  eternity — 
Until  I  see  Thee,  Shepherd,  Saviour,  Friend, 

I  cling  to  this  :  "  Thou  ever  art  with  me  ! " 


(Eljc  £ovb  io  Uisett  Jnbecfc. 

THE  Easter  praises  may  falter; 
And  die  with  the  Easter  Day; 
The  blossoms  that  brightened  the  altar 
In  sweetness  may  fade  away; 


THE  LORD  IS  RISEN  INDEED.  I J 


But  after  the  silence  and  fading 
There  lingers,  untold  and  unpriced, 

Above  all  changing  and  shading, 
The  love  of  the  living  Christ. 

For  the  living  Christ  is  loving, 

And  the  loving  Christ  is  alive ! 
His  life  hidden  in  us  is  moving 

Us  even  to  pray  and  to  strive. 
Alas  !  that  e'en  in  our  striving 

We  labor  like  spirits  in  prison, 
Forgetting  that  Jesus  is  living, 

Forgetting  the  Saviour  has  risen  ! 

We  join  in  the  Easter  rejoicing, 

And  echo  each  gladdening  strain, 
While  a  pitiful  minor  is  voicing 

Our  own  secret  doubting  or  pain. 
We  weave  Him  a  shroud  of  our  sadness, 

We  cover  His  smile  with  our  gloom, 
And  drive  back  the  angel  of  gladness 

Who  waits  at  the  door  of  the  tomb. 

We  know  not  our  own  hearts  have  hidden 

Our  Christ  in  a  grave  of  our  own  ; 
We  know  not  our  own  hands  are  bidden 

To  roll  from  the  threshold  the  stone. 
While  our  tearful  eyes,  drooping  and  weary 

With  watching  in  sorrow  and  fear, 
Might  see,  with  the  heart-broken  Mary, 

That  the  Lord  is  alive — and  is  near ! 


1 8  CHIN  MERE  TIE 


G  I)  c  a  u  c  0  . 

rT^HE  day  is  passed  that  seemed  so  wearisome, 
J-      Now  coming  darkness  all  my  toil  relieves, 
And  in  the  cool,  gray  twilight  hastening  home 
I  sing  along  the  way — Master,  I  come, 
Bringing  my  sheaves  ! 

The  ground  was  hard  and  stony,  and  I  wept 

Over  the  tiny  stalk,  the  tender  leaves ; 
From  hour  to  hour  my  loving  vigil  kept, 
Waited  and  toiled  and  prayed,  while  others  slept. 

Behold  my  sheaves ! 

I  am  ashamed,  dear  Lord,  they  are  so  few ; 

Yet  do  I  know  Thy  pitying  love  perceives — 
Searching    this    heart    of    mine    all    through    and 

through — 
Not  what  I  did,  but  what  I  tried  to  do ; 
Accept  my  sheaves ! 


(£  I)  i  n  n  c  r  c  1 1) . 

St.  John  xvi.  3-8. 

THE  limpid  waters  of  the  sacred  lake 
All  sparkling  lay ; 
Each  wave  an  opal,  laughed  and  danced, 
As  o'er  the  emerald  hills  first  glanced 
The  new-born  day. 

A  tiny  ship  all  through  the  night  had  rocked 

Upon  tlnv  wave  ; 


CHINNERETH.  19 


Its  owners  heeded  not  the  morning  wind, 
For  baffled  hopes  had  made  them,  heart  and  mind, 
No  longer  brave. 

But,  lo  !  as  toward  the  shining  pebbly  shore 

Their  eyes  they  turn, 
They  see,  bathed  in  the  morning's  glorious  light, 
A  Form,  so  fair,  their  sad  hearts  at  the  sight 

Within  them  burn. 

Ah,  waters  pure  !  above  all  waters  blest, 

True  name  is  thine, 
A  harp — Chinnereth — and  thy  strings  are  pressed 
By  sacred  feet ;  thy  music  lulled  to  rest 

Manhood  Divine. 

Across  the  conscious  billows  came  a  voice, 

"  What  will  ye  gain, 
My  children,  from  your  weary  night's  turmoil  ? 
For  without  Me  even  hard  and  earnest  toil 

Must  be  in  vain. 

"  Cast  ye  your  nets  upon  the  ship's  right  side, 

And  ye  shall  find." 
Obedient,  they  met  their  sure  reward ; 
Their  nets  were  filled.  "  We  knew  Thee  not,  O  Lord, 

For  we  were  blind." 

Across  the  billows  of  life's  troubled  sea 

There  comes  a  voice 
To  us,  who  all  night  long  have  toiled  and  tossed, 
Almost  despairing  at  our  labor  lost, 

And  we  rejoice  : 


20  THE  BLESSED   TASK. 


" 0  thou  of  little  faith  !  when  wilt  thou  learn 

That  without  Me 
Thy  heart,  thy  hopes,  thy  dreams  are  incomplete  ? 
Cast  now  thy  life  on  this  side,  at  My  feet, 

And  thou  shalt  see 

"  That  He  who  in  the  wilderness  can  feed 

Ten  thousand  men 
With  loaves  and  fishes — He  can  surely  make 
Of  thy  poor  gift,  when  offered  for  His  sake, 

E'en  talents  ten." 


®l)c  JMcsscb  ®a0k. 

I  SAID  :  "  Sweet  Master,  hear  me  pray ; 
For  love  of  Thee  the  boon  I  ask  ; 
Give  me  to  do  for  Thee  each  day 

Some  simple,  lowly,  blessed  task." 
And  listening  long,  with  hope  elate, 
I  only  heard  Him  whisper:  "Wait." 

The  days  went  by,  but  nothing  brought 
Beyond  the  wonted  round  of  care, 

And  I  was  vexed  with  anxious  thought, 
And  found  the  waiting  hard  to  bear; 

But  when  I  said  :  "  In  vain  I  pray  ! " 

I  heard  Him  answer  gently  :  "  Nay." 

So  praying  still  and  waiting  on, 

And  pondering  what  the  waiting  meant, 
This  knowledge  sweet  at  last  I  won- 

And,  oh,  the  depth  of  my  content ! 


THE  GATE.  21 


My  blessed  task  for  every  day 
Is  humbly,  gladly  to  obey. 

And  though  I  daily,  hourly  fail 
To  bring  my  task  to  Him  complete, 

And  must  with  constant  tears  bewail 
My  failures  at  my  Master's  feet, 

No  other  service  would  I  ask 

Than  this  my  blessed,  blessed  task. 


QL\)c   ©ate. 

O  STRONG-BARRED  gate, 
Open  to  me ! 
On  the  other  side 
Such  joy  I  see ! 
None  ever  weary, 

None  are  crossed ; 
Even  the  thought 
Of  pain  is  lost. 


I  prayed  in  vain 

Before  the  gate ; 
I  watched  and  wept 

Early  and  late. 
I  watched  and  wept 

From  sun  to  sun  ; 
At  last  I  said : 

"Thy  will  be  done. 


»» 


Said  it  in  truth, 
And  turned  away 


2  2  STRENGTH  FOR   THE  DAY. 


To  do  God's  will 
From  day  to  day ; 

"  One  farewell  look, 
My  wish,  to  thee." 

Behold,  the  gate 
Was  open  to  me  ! 


Strength  for  tl)c  Dan. 

BEFORE. 

THE  morning  breaks  in  clouds,  the  rain  is  falling, 
Upon  the  pillow  still  I  sigh  for  rest, 
But  yet  I  hear  so  many  voices  calling 
To  work,  by  which  my  burdened  soul  is  pressed, 
That  I  can  only  pray, 
"  Strength  for  the  day." 

'Tis  not  a  prayer  of  faith,  but  weak  repining, 

For  with  the  words  there  comes  no  hope,  no  light . 
In  other  lives  a  morning  sun  is  shining, 
While  mine  is  but  a  change  from  night  to  night ; 
So  while  I  weep  I  pray, 
u  Strength  for  the  day." 

For  it  is  hard  to  work  in  constant  shadow, 
Climbing  with  tired  feet  an  uphill  road  ; 
And  so,  while  my  weak  heart  dreads  each  to-morrow, 
And  once  again  I  lift  my  heavy  load, 
Desponding  still  I  pray, 
"  Strength  for  the  day." 


UP   TO  GOD.  23 


AFTER. 

Now  looking  back  to  the  long  hours  ended, 

I  wonder  why  I  feared  them  as  they  came  ; 
Each  brought  the  strength  on  which  its  task  depended, 
And  so  my  prayer  was  answered  just  the  same. 
Now  with  new  faith  I  pray, 
"  Strength  for  each  day." 

For  in  the  one  just  closed  I've  learned  how  truly 

God's  help  is  equal  to  our  need ; 
Sufficient  for  each  hour  it  cometh  newly, 
If  we  but  follow  where  its  teachings  lead, 
Believing,  when  we  pray, 
"  Strength  for  the  day." 

He  who  has  felt  the  load  which  we  are  bearing, 

Who  walked  each  step  along  the  path  we  tread, 
Is  ever  for  His  weary  children  caring, 
And  keeps  the  promise  made  us  when  He  said, 
He'd  give  us  all  the  way 
u  Strength  for  the  day." 


Up   to   (5  0 tr . 

ABOVE  the  trembling  elements, 
Above  life's  restless  sea, 
Dear  Saviour,  lift  my  spirit  up, — 
Oh,  lift  me  up  to  Thee ! 

Great  calmness  there, — sweet  patience,  too, 
Upon  Thy  face  I  see ; 


24  A   PRA  YER. 


I  would  be  calm  and  patient,  Lord, — 
Oh,  lift  me  up  to  Thee  ! 

I  am  not  weary  of  Thy  work, 
From  earth  I  would  not  flee  ; 

But  while  I  walk  and  while  I  serve, 
Oh,  lift  me  up  to  Thee  ! 

That  I  may  bless  my  tender  friends, 
And  those  who  love  not  me, 

Oh,  lift  me  high  above  myself, 
Dear  Jesus,  up  to  Thee  ! 

Whatever  falls,  of  good  or  ill, 

Thy  hand,  Thy  care  I  see, 
And  while  these  varied  dealings  pass, 

Oh,  lift  me  up  to  Thee ! 

And  when  mine  eyes  close  for  the  last, 
Still  this  my  prayer  shall  be, — 

Dear  Saviour,  lift  my  spirit  up, — 
Oh,  lift  me  up  to  Thee ! 


Qt   pratjcr. 

I  WOULD  that  I  were  fairer,  Lord, 
More  what  Thy  bride  should  be, — 
More  meet  to  be  the  sharer,  Lord, 
Of  love  and  heaven  with  Thee  ; 
Yet  if  Thy  love  with  me  Thou'lt  share, 
I  know  that  love  can  make  me  fair. 


"FEAR  NOT;  I  WILL  HELP   THEE?       25 


Oh,  would  that  I  were  purer,  Lord, 
More  filled  with  grace  divine  ! 

Oh,  would  that  I  were  surer,  Lord, 
That  my  whole  heart  is  Thine  ! 

Were  it  so  pure  that  I  might  see 

Thy  beauty,  I  would  grow  like  Thee. 

Oh,  would  that  I  could  higher,  Lord, 

Above  these  senses  live ! 
Each  feeling,  each  desire,  my  Lord, 

Could  wholly  to  Thee  give ! 
The  love  I  thus  would  daily  share, 
That  love  alone  would  make  me  fair. 


".fear  Xot:  3  toill  ijcly  dljee." 

BEING  perplexed,  I  say, 
Lord,  make  it  right ! 
Night  is  as  day  to  Thee, 

Darkness  is  light. 
I  am  afraid  to  touch 
Things  that  involve  so  much  ; — 
My  trembling  hand  may  shake, 
My  skill-less  hand  may  break  : 
Thine  can  make  no  mistake. 

Being  in  doubt,  I  say, 

Lord,  make  it  plain  ! 
Which  is  the  true,  safe  wray? 

Which  would  be  vain  ? 
I  am  not  wise  to  know, 
Nor  sure  of  foot,  to  go. 


26       "FEAR  NOT:  /  WILL  HELP   TI/EE." 


My  blind  eyes  can  not  see 
What  is  so  clear  to  Thee. 
Lord,  make,  it  clear  to  me. 

Being  in  fear,  I  say, 

Lord,  show  Thy  face  ! 
Shine  on  my  daily  path, 

Lighting  each  place. 
Little  will  matter  then 
How  death  comes,  where,  or  when  ; 
Little,  what  life  may  be  ; 
Little,  what  griefs  I  see. 
All  shall  be  well,  with  Thee. 

Being  in  straits,  I  cry, 
Lord,  make  a  way ! 
Open  a  door  for  me  : 

Help  me,  I  pray ! 
Gold  Thou  hast,  endless  store : 
Strength,  all  I  want,  and  more. 
All'  hearts  are  in  Thy  hand, — 
Nothing  can  Thee  withstand. 
Lord,  look,  and  give  command. 

Now,  Lord,  what  wait  I  for? 

On  Thee  alone 
My  hope  is  all  rested, — 

Lord,  seal  me  Thine  own  ! 
Only  Thine  own  to  be, 
Only  to  live  to  Thee. 

Thine,  with  each  day  begun, 
Thine,  with  each  set  of  sun. 
Thine,  till  my  work  is  done. 


0  N L  Y.  27 

Then,  Lord,  then  bear  Thou  me 

Safe  through  the  flood  ; 
In  Thy  courts,  welcome  me, 

Bought  with  Thy  blood. 
Once  prisoner,  now  unbound  ; 
Once  lost,  and  by  Thee  found ; 

Brought  home  from  sin  and  fears ; 
Brought  home  from  death  and  tears, 
Home,  for  unnumbered  years.   Amen. 


(D  n  1 n . 

ONLY  a  word  for  the  Master, 
Lovingly,  quietly  said. 
Only  a  word  ! 
Yet  the  Master  heard, 
And  some  fainting  hearts  were  fed. 

Only  a  look  of  remonstrance, 
Sorrowful,  gentle,  and  deep. 

Only  a  look  ! 

Yet  the  strong  man  shook, 
And  he  went  alone  to  weep. 

Only  some  act  of  devotion, 

Willingly,  joyfully  done, 

"  Surely  'twas  naught !  " 

(So  the  proud  world  thought.) 

But  yet  souls  for  Christ  were  won  ! 

Only  an  hour  with  the  children, 
Pleasantly,  cheerfully  given. 


2  3  THE    TWO    SHADOWS. 


Yet  seed  was  sown 
In  that  hour  alone 
Which  would  brine:  forth  fruit  for  heaven  ! 


i& 


"  Only." — But  Jesus  is  looking 

Constantly,  tenderly  down 
To  earth,  and  sees 
Those  who  strive  to  please  ; 

And  their  love  He  loves  to  crown. 


£1)0   (£voo   Sljabow 


G. 


u  He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  shall  abide 
tinder  the  shadow  of  the  Ahnighty" — Fsalm  xc.  i. 

THERE  are  shadows  near  every  pathway 
The  daylight  but  partly  conceals, 
And  we  hail  with  delight  or  with  sadness 
The  shadow  that  "  hurts  or  that  heals." 

One  shadow  falls  darkly  in  sorrow, 
Regrets,  disappointment  and  fears, 

And  the  hopes  of  a  brighter  to-morrow 
Are  quenched  in  the  anguish  of  tears. 

And  man  holds  in  memory  only 

The  love  that  once  brightened  his  way, 

And  bereaved,  misanthropic,  and  lonely, 
Mourns  its  folly,  deception — decay  ; 

And  without  faith  in  Jesus  or  heaven 
Knows  not  the  rich  blessing  of  prayer, 

But  rebellious,  with  sins  unforgiven, 
Walks  by  Marah's  dark  waters  of  care. 


A    DA  Y-BLESSIWG.  29 


So  in  gloom  falls  the  shadow  of  life's  evening 
O'er  the  soul  like  a  mystical  spell ; 

And  silver-haired,  wasted  and  weary, 
Life  ebbs  in  a  hopeless  farewell. 

The  other  brings  coolness  and  blessing — 
A  refuge  from  noonday's  fierce  heat. 

It  comes  like  a  mother's  caressing, 
With  comfort  ineffably  sweet ; 

For  we  know  that  its  love  changeth  never, 
That  Christ  is  our  "  covert  and  shade," 

That  the  soul  may  in  peace  rest  forever, 
For  He  our  redemption  has  paid. 

O  blood-bought  and  dearest  possession 
Is  the  faith  that  brings  pardon,  repose  ! 

O  blessed  beyond  all  expression 

Is  the  Presence  Divine  at  life's  close  ! 

Then  the  shadow  which  death  draws  around  us 
Shall  be  changed  into  light  from  above, 

As  we  clasp  His  dear  hand  in  the  valley, 
And  behold  only  infinite  love. 


&  Dan-Blessing. 

"As  thy  day  thy  strength  shall  be" 

EACH  morn  on  awaking 
A  whisper  I  hear, 
That  fills  me  with  courage 
And  quiets  my  fear. 


30  A    DAY-BLESSIXG. 


It  tells  that  strength-blessings 

From  the  Strong  One  in  heaven, 
Each  day  as  I  need  them 


To  me  shall  be  given. 


Its  faithful  fulfilling 

Each  moment  I  see, 
Whatever  the  duties 

The  day  brings  to  me  ; 
There's  a  Helper  beside  me 

Who  girds  for  the  fight, 
And  a  Hand  in  the  darkness 

That  leads  to  the  light. 

Whatever  revealings 

Of  toil  or  of  care 
Bring  the  hours  in  their  passing, 

I  do  not  despair  ; 
I  may  become  weary, 

Too  weary  to  sing, 
But  I  have  the  strength-blessing, 

And  "  do  the  next  thing." 

And  cheerily  onward 

My  journey  I  take, 
Hope  need  not  be  fainting, 

God  will  not  forsake  ; 
When  strength  is  exhausted 

New  gifts  come  again, 
And  I  find  that  God's  promise 

Is  never  in  vain. 

Sometimes,  like  a  coward, 
1  sighingly  s;i\ , 


HOW  TO  LIVE.  31 


"  But  what  of  the  morrow 
That  follows  to-day  ?  " 

Then  gently  rebukeful 
The  message  is  heard, 

And  my  heart  that  was  timid 
To  trusting  is  stirred. 


i& 


Since  yesterday's  blessings 

Avail  not  to-day, 
The  work  of  to-morrow 

Aside  I  will  lay  ; 
To-day  I  will  labor, 

To-night  I  will  rest ; 
The  needs  of  the  future 

God  knows  of  the  best. 

God  sends  to  His  children 

Day-strength  with  day-bread  ! 
Since  the  past  with  His  blessing 

Has  joyously  sped, 
My  heart  shall  be  quiet 

In  happy  content, 
And  in  His  good  service 

My  life  shall  be  spent. 


£}oto  to  £iuc. 

SO  should  we  live,  that  every  hour 
Should  die,  as  dies  a  natural  flower- 
A  self-reviving  thing  of  power  ; 


32  MUCH  MORE. 


That  every  thought,  and  every  deed, 
May  hold  within  itself  the  seed 
Of  future  good  and  future  meed. 

Esteeming  sorrow — whose  employ 
Is  to  develop,  not  destroy — 
Far  better  than  a  barren  joy. 


AX  xx  c  I)    ill  o  v  e . 

4  The  Lord  is  able  to  give  thee  much  more  than  this." — 2  Chron. 

xxv.  9. 

u  1\/T UCH  morc  than  this "~~°  lovins  Christ  •' 

IVl     The  Father's  greatest  gift, 
In  whom  "  all  things  "  are  ours — to  Thee 

Our  waiting  eyes  we  lift ; 
Their  askings  can  not  grow  too  large, 

Since  we  with  Thee  are  heirs, — 
Although  by  ways  still  dark,  we  hear 

Thy  answer  to  our  prayers. 

Thy  kingly  giving  far  outweighs 

All  that  we  ask  or  think, 
Drawing  us  to  Thy  heart  of  love 

By  many  an  upward  link. 
And  faith  may  climb  the  ladder,  Prayer, 

Each  step  an  answer  given, 
Each  round  inscribed  "  much  more  than  this," 

Up  to  the  gates  of  heaven. 

The  tender  reachings  of  Thy  hand 
p'ar  underlie  our  wants  ; 


GOD'S  LOVE.  S3 


The  same  great  love  that  stoops  to  hear. 

Interprets,  ere  it  grants  ; 
However  ill  we  know  to  ask 

For  blessings  all  untold, 
Thou  knowest  well  what  good  to  give, 

What  wisely  to  withhold. 

And  when,  some  lesser  light  gone  out, 

We  blindly  grope  for  Thee, — - 
Teach  us,  dear  Jesus,  step  by  step, 

To  trust  Thee  utterly  ; 
Anoint  our  sorrow-lidded  eyes 

With  Thy  sweet  strengthening  grace, 
And  lift  them  to  the  Light  of  Life 

Full  shining  in  Thy  face. 

Take  Thou  these  blind  and  stammering  prayers, 

That  scarce  can  spell  Thy  name  ; 
Correct,  enlarge  them,  make  them  bold 

To  plead  the  children's  claim  ; 
Then  pour  the  storehouse  of  Thy  love, 

Send  answer  down,  until 
Sweet  mercy's  measure  running  o'er, 

Our  deepest  need  shafl  fill ! 


(5ob1G    £0DC. 

AS  one  who  sails  'ncath  Southern  stars, 
Outlooking  through  the  night, 
Beholds  across  dark  leagues  of  sea, 
The  golden  fires  of  Stromboli, 
Uprising  clear  and  bright ; 
3 


34  ALL   THINGS  FOR  GOOD. 


And  sails  away,  and  comes  again, 

But  finds  it  still  the  same — 
Far  out  upon  the  world's  dim  verge, 
Steady  and  calm,  above  the  surge, 

Like  some  vast  altar's  flame. 

So  life's  lone  voyager,  through  his  tears, 

Looks  out  across  time's  sea, 
And  there,  in  darkest  night  of  fears, 
God's  love  gleams  brighter  down  the  years, 

And  through  eternity. 


SUl  (Iljings  for  ©cob. 

"All things  work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God" 

FEAR  not,  O  troubled  heart,  to  take  on  trust 
This  passport  to  thy  rest, — 
For  though  thou  canst  not  read,  as  yet,  the  whole, 
God's  seal  is  manifest. 

"  All  things  " — so  runs  the  promise,  broad  and  free, 

If  only  Christ  be  mine  ; 
Sorrow  and  joy  are  servants  of  one  Lord, 

And  work  out  one  design. 

The  very  griefs  that  vex  and  try  my  soul 

Sweet  recompense  will  yield, 
And  work  the  furtherance  of  His  perfect  will, 

Thus  faithfully  revealed. 

And  I  will  take,  from  out  the  river's  depth, 
Like  Israel  of  old, 


THE  SEED  AND  FRUIT.  35 


Memorial  stones,  to  mark  where,  at  His  word, 
The  waters  backward  rolled. 

Father,  Thy  life-long  mercies,  old  and  new, 
Shall  be  the  stones  so  fair, 

Built  on  the  ground-work  of  a  grateful  heart, 
To  raise  an  altar  there  ! 

To  "  all  things  "  minister,  of  right,  to  me, — 
Things  present,  things  to  come  ; 

And  help  to  bring  me  on  my  pilgrim  path 
To  the  eternal  Home  ! 


QLl)c  Sccb  anb  Sinit. 

,r  I  ^IS  not  its  blood  that  bursts  the  vine 

J-      When  in  the  press  it's  trampled  on, 
But  healing,  sacramental  wine, 
The  Holy  Grail — the  cup  divine — 
Christ's  life  free-given  for  our'own. 

'Tis  not  with  angry  stroke,  but  kind, 

The  sculptor  hews  the  marble  stone  ; 
His  blows,  their  scars,  if  we  will  mind, 
But  loose  the  angel  there  confined — 
An  angel  from  a  shapeless  stone. 

'Twas  not  in  wrath  the  Psalmist  old 

His  inspired  hand  swept  o'er  the  strings, 

And  vexed  his  harp  with  beatings  bold ; 

A  purer,  holier  music  rolled 

E'en  from  its  sharpest  quiverings. 


3&  STEP  B  Y  STEP. 


And  thus  in  all  the  world's  great  round, 
When  we  its  meaning  full  divine — 

From  fiercest  twangs  the  sweetest  sound ; 

By  sharpest  strokes  the  soul  unbound ; 
From  sorest  bruise  the  sweetest  wine. 

So  to  the  faith  now  tossed  with  fear 
All  seeming  ills  shall  prove  to  be 
Each  one  the  seed  for  harvest  near ; 
"  Though  Christ  was  dead,  He  is  not  here  ;  " 
There  needs  the  cross,  the  funeral  bier, 
Ere  we  the  resurrection  see. 


Step  brj  Step. 

ON  the  mount  of  Contemplation, 
At  the  highest  Aspiration, 
Oh,  how  near ! 
Oh,  how  near  seems  heaven's  portal ! 
Quickly  would  we  pass  athwart  all 
That's  between, — 

O'er  the  clouds  of  snowy  whiteness, 
Through  the  angel-fields  of  brightness, 

Up  to  God ! 
With  desires  pure,  and  feelings 
All  aglow  with  Heaven's  rcvealings, 

We  would  haste ! 

But  our  path  is  downward  bending! 
We  must  mind  our  steps,  descending 
All  the  way, 


IN  THE  SHADOW.  37 


And  the  way  is  narrow,  winding, 
'Midst  briers  and  stones  and  thickets,  blinding 
Us  from  Heaven. 

Yet  it  is  the  way  directed  ; 
We  shall  find  it  intersected, 

Here  and  there, 
With  the  paths  from  beauteous  places, 
Rays  of  light  from  angels'  faces, — 

Waves  of  song ! 

Step  by  step  while  onward  moving, 
Lights  and  signs  and  shadows  proving, 

And  the  ground, 
We  are  slowly,  slowly  learning 
What  will  fit  us  for  discerning, 

Nearer  to  God ! 


3n  ll)c  Gljabou). 

a  O  ITTING  in  the  shadow,  singing 
^-5     Such  a  sober  song, 
Sure  thou  dost  the  merry  season 

And  thy  sunshine  wrong  ! 
Forth  among  thy  venturous  brethren, 

Where  great  deeds  are  done ; 
Only  in  the  wide  arena 

Is  the  garland  won. 
Fame  and  honors  arc  the  guerdon 

Of  the  bold  and  strong. 
Singer,  in  the  shadow  singing 

Such  a  serious  song, 


33  IN  THE  SHADOW. 


What  if  unto  thee  derision 
And  neglect  belong  ? 

"  While  thy  slow,  reluctant  fingers 

On  the  lute-strings  lie, 
Eager  crowds  to  crown  thy  rivals 

Pass  thee  careless  by. 
And  thou  sittest,  singing,  singing, 

Through  the  silence  lone, 
To  the  same  sad  burden  ringing 

Mournful  monotone. 
And  the  busy  will  not  hearken, 

Nor  the  idle  heed  ; 
The  ambitious  do  not  prize  thee, 

Nor  the  happy  need. 
Come  forth  to  the  sunshine,  singer, 

'Mong  the  haunts  of  men, 
Tune  thy  harp  to  blither  measures — 

They  will  hear  thee  then. 

"  Far  above  my  compeers 

Couldst  thou  lift  me  now, 
Wreathing  with  thy  laurels 

My  triumphant  brow, 
By  my  siren  singing, 

Not  a  soul  unmoved — 
In  all  hearts  enthrone  me, 

Chosen  and  beloved, 
More  than  Balak  proffered 

To  the  recreant  seer, 
All  the  mighty  covet, 

And  the  proud  hold  dear, 
Should  not,  could  not,  tempt  me, 

To  a  softer  strain  ; 


WASTE.  39 


I  must  sing  my  song  out, 
Though  I  sing  in  vain. 

"  As  the  Master  guides  it, 

So  the  hand  must  play, 
And  the  words  He  whispers 

Needs  must  have  their  way. 
Let  the  world  turn  from  me 

With  a  mute  disdain, 
I  must  speak  my  message, 

Though  I  speak  in  vain  ; 
I  must  sing  my  song  out, 

Though  I  sing  in  vain. 

"  Let  men  hurry  by  me, 

As  they  will  to-day ; 
There  will  come  a  morrow 

When  they  needs  must  stay ; 
When  they  needs  must  listen, 

Murmur  as  they  may. 
Therefore  in  the  shadow 

Leave  me  singing  on  ; 
They  will  surely  seek  me 

At  the  set  of  sun, 
When  life's  day  is  waning, 

And  her  hopes  are  gone." 


o 


to '  a  *  1 1  • 

HEART  too  deeply  loving! 
Why  fling  away  thy  gold  ? 
Love  never  can  be  bought  or  sold  ; 


40  WASTE. 

Love  is  no  sum  for  proving ; 

Why  strive  for  what  thou  canst  not  gain, 
And  waste  thy  golden  years  in  vain  ? 

Sad  heart !  too  tightly  round  thee 

The  magic  chain  is  coiled  ; 

The  uses  of  thy  life  are  foiled 
Since  this  deep  spell  hath  bound  thee ; 

And  thy  being  vibrates  to  the  touch 

Of  a  single  hand  loved  overmuch. 

If  one  word  hath  the  power 

To  set  ablaze  the  skies, 

Or  bring  tears  brimming  to  sad  eyes, 
And  change  life  hour  by  hour, 

It  prophesies  of  sorrow  near; 

In  vain — in  vain — thou  wilt  not  hear. 

It  shows  all  things  unreal ; 
For  life,  wide  though  it  be, 
In  all  its  wideness  holds  for  thee 

But  one — thine  own  ideal ; 
All  other  forms  and  faces  fade 
Before  the  idol  thou  hast  made. 

If  e'en  one  glance  averted, 
One  cold  clasp  of  a  hand, 
Can  make  it  darkness  o'er  the  land, 

Make  life  seem  all  deserted — 

Beware,  O  heart !  lest  thou  hast  given 
To  earth  the  worship  claimed  by  heaven  ! 

And  duties  are  around  thee, 
Straight  lying  in  thy  path, 


DUTY.  41 

But  thy  dull  mind  a  shadow  hath 
That  hides  what  light  surrounds  thee, 
And  far  ahead  the  beacon  lies 
Of  thy  transfixed  steadfast  eyes. 

Look  down,  sad  eyes,  look  downwards, 
The  earth  is  full  of  woe, 
Of  wild  laments  and  wailings  low, 

Of  harsh  and  jarring  chords. 

Poor  heart !  in  soothing  others*  pain, 
The  Light  of  Life  will  shine  again. 

And  life  is  worth  the  living, 
Though,  as  the  years  pass  by, 
They  bring  no  answer  to  thy  cry, 

No  gift  to  match  thy  giving ; 

Though  thou  must  sadly  journey  on, 
With  scarce  a  hope  to  lean  upon. 

God  gave  thee  life — to  use  it 

For  His  great  ends,  not  thine ; 

And  if  the  cup  be  bitter  wine, 
Shrink  not — nor  dare  refuse  it. 

He  knows  thy  love — He  knows  thy  pain — 

Sad  life  !  thou  wilt  not  be  in  vain. 


D  n  t  tj  . 

OH,  ask  not  thou,  how  shall  I  bear, 
The  burden  of  to-morrow  ? 
Sufficient  for  to-day  is  care, 
Its  evil  and  its  sorrow ; 


42  DUTY. 

God  imparteth  by  the  way 
Strength  sufficient  for  the  day. 

Endeavor,  with  unruffled  brow 

And  with  a  mind  serene, 
To  meet  the  duties  of  the  Now, 
The  Present  and  the  Seen. 
He  who  doth  a  Saviour  own 
Is  not  left  to  strive  alone. 

If  prosperity  doth  bubble 

Briskly  in  thy  golden  cup, 
Raise  it  to  pale  lips,  that  trouble 
Sorrowfully  parcheth  up  ; 
Riches  generously  given 
May  be  found  again  in  heaven. 

Clench  thy  difficulties  fast 
With  a  determined  hand, 
Until,  in  thy  victorious  grasp, 
They  crumble  into  sand. 
He  who  overcomes  at  last 
Will  not  mourn  about  the  past. 

But  if,  in  thy  narrow  border, 
Many  bitter  herbs  are  set, 
Duly  framed  and  kept  in  order, 
They  may  recompense  thee  vet. 
Use  the  bitter  and  the  sweet 
As  thy  med'einc  and  thy  meat. 

They  who,  in  appointed  dm 

Live  most  secretly  with  God, 
Shall  come  forth  in  fullest  beauty. 


BETWEEN  THE  LIGHTS.  43 


Blossoming  like  Aaron's  rod. 
Plants  can  flourish  in  the  dark, 
If  within  th**  Golden  Ark. 


Between  tljc  £igl)t 


A  LITTLE  pause  in  life,  while  daylight  lingers, 
Between  the  sunset  and  the  pale  moonrise, 
When  daily  labor  slips  from  weary  fingers, 
And  soft  gray  shadows  veil  the  aching  eyes. 

Old  perfumes  wander  back  from  fields  of  clover, 
Seen  in  the  light  of  suns  which  long  have  set ; 

Beloved  ones,  whose  earthly  toil  is  over, 
Draw  near  as  if  they  lived  among  us  yet. 

Old  voices  call  me — through  the  dusk  returning 

I  hear  the  echo  of  departed  feet, 
And  then  I  ask  with  vain  and  troubled  yearning, 

What  is  the  charm  which  makes  old  things  so 
sweet  ? 

Must  the  old  joys  be  evermore  withholden  ? 

Even  their  memory  keeps  me  pure  and  true, 
And  yet  from  out  Jerusalem  the  golden 

God  speaketh,  saying,  "  I  make  all  things  new." 

"  Father  !  "  I  cry,  the  old  must  still  be  nearer  ; 

Stifle  my  love,  or  give  me  back  the  past — 
Give  me  the  fair  old  earth,  whose  paths  are  dearer 

Than  all  thy  shining  streets  and  mansions  vast. 


Peace,  peace,  the  Lord  of  earth  and  heaven  knoweth 
The  human  soul  in  all  its  heat  and  strife, 

Out  of  His  throne  no  stream  of  Lethe  floweth, 
But  the  clear  river  of  eternal  life. 

lie  giveth  life,  aye,  life  in  all  its  sweetness, 
Old  loves,  old  sunny  scenes  will  He  restore  ; 

Only  the  curse  of  sin  and  incompleteness 

Shall  taint  thine  earth  and  vex  thy  soul  no  more. 

Serve  Him  in  daily  work  and  earnest  living; 

And  faith  shall  lift  thee  to  His  sunlit  heights  ; 
Then  shall  a  psalm  of  gladness  and  thanksgiving 

Fill  the  calm  hour  that  comes  between  the  lights. 


Praise. 

FOR  gladsome  summer  days, 
For  joy  and  peace  always, 
Dear  Lord,  I  sing  my  praise  ; 
For  woful  winter's  night, 
For  grief's  long,  fearful  fight, 
Still  praise,  O  Lord  of  Light  ! 

For  all  the  calm  I  find 
For  lightsome,  happy  mind, 
I  praise  Thee,  Lord  most  kind  ! 
For  all  life's  toil  and  strain, 
For  weary  heart  and  brain, 
I  praise  Thee,  Lord,  again. 


For  dear  ones'  health  and  peace, 
And  joys  that  still  increase, 
My  praises  shall  not  cease  ; 
Yea,  for  their  grief  and  care, 
And  burdens  loved  ones  bear, 
I  praise  Thee  still  with  prayer. 

For  home,  for  each  dear  friend, 
For  life,  till  life  shall  end, 
My  praises  shall  ascend  ; 
For  dear  ones  gone  before, 
For  Death's  foot  at  my  door, 
I'll  praise  Thee,  Lord,  the  more. 

With  gladness  I'll  receive 
The  joys  my  God  shall  give, 
And  praise  Thee  while  I  live  ; 
The  griefs  Thou  mayest  send 
My  heart  in  twain  may  rend — 
Still  praises  shall  ascend. 

And  when  kind  Death  shall  stand 
To  lead  me  by  the  hand 
Into  Immanuel's  land, 
I'll  praise  Thee  and  adore, 
Upon  the  heavenly  shore, 
Dear  Lord,  forevermore. 


])  c  a  c  c . 

AS  flows  the  river, 
Calm  and  deep, 
In  silence  toward  the  sea, 


So  fiowcth  ever, 
And  ceaseth  never, 
The  love  of  God  to  me. 

lie  kindly  keepeth 
Those  He  loves 

Secure  from  every  fear. 
From  the  eye  that  wcepcth 
For  one  that  sleepeth, 

He  gently  dries  the  tear. 

What  peace  He  bringeth 
To  my  heart, 

Deep  as  the  soundless  sea  ! 
How  sweetly  singeth 
The  soul  that  clingeth, 

My  loving  Lord,  to  Thee  ! 

How  calm  at  even 
Sinks  the  sun 
Beyond  the  clouded  west ! 

So  tempest-driven, 

Into  the  haven, 
I  reach  the  longed-for  rest. 


^ot  iinta  fjimsclf. 

11  For  none  of  us  livcth  unto  himself \  and  no  ;u,j>:  dietk   unto  him* 

set/.'''' — Rom.  xiv.  7. 

UP  from  the  dead   He  comes;   no  bands  might 
bind  Him 


Who  came  death's  captives  from  their  chains  to  save ; 
And  those  who  in  the  morning  seek  to  find  Him, 
Only  behold  a  lonely,  rifled  grave. 

Fresh  from  the  dead  He  comes  ;  amid  the  flowers, 
Brighter,  more  fragrant,  and  more  pure  than  they  ; 

And  those  who  bring  their  spice  these  early  hours, 
An  angel  bids  to  look  where  Jesus  lay. 

Up   from   the  ground   it   comes ;   the   green   grass 
springing 

Dead  winter  can  not  hold  in  its  embrace  ; 
Nor  can  the  ice  forever  hush  the  singing 

Of  streamlets  rippling  through  that  garden  place. 

Up  in  our  hearts  it  comes, — the  new  life  throbbing 
Which  Jesus  wrested  from  death's  ghastly  hand. 

No  more  the  dirge-like  wail  of  Lenten  sobbing 
May  mar  the  music  of  Immanuel's  land. 

Not  for  itself  it  comes,  the  spring's  fair  greenness, 
The  fruit  and  beauty  of  the  summer's  life, 

But  that,  far  off  in  autumn's  ripened  keenness, 
Our  barns  with  grain  and  fruitage  may  be  rife. 

Not  to  themselves  they  live,  the  golden  sunshine, 
The  myriad  marvels  of  earth,  sea,  and  air  ; 

The  teeming  life  of  forest,  hill,  and  prairie, 
Each  ministers  to  each,  and  everywhere. 

Not  for  Himself  Christ  rose  that  Easter  morning, 
Not  to  Himself  the  conqueror  liveth  now  ; 

Not  that  His  head  alone  might  wear  the  crowning 
Placed  He  the  diadem  above  His  brow. 


48  77/ A'   PRICE. 


For  us,  for  us  His  mighty  wonder-working, 
For  us  He  trod  the  wine-press  all  alone, 

Burst  the  rock-gates,  and,  through  the  garden  taking 
I  lis  path,  passed  grandly  upward  to  His  throne. 

For  us  He  lives  through  all  the  passing  ages, 

Dropping  through  unclosed  hands  His  gifts  to  men, 

The  angel  who  records  them  on  its  pages 
Finds  only  loving  deeds  to  us  to  pen. 

For  us  His  grace,  a  treasury  unfailing 

Of  wisdom,  faith,  and  love,  and  inner  light, 

For  us  His  instant  prayer,  and,  all-prevailing, 
For  us  His  armor  proved  in  every  fight. 

Not  to  ourselves  we  live  the  life  He  giveth, 
His  resurrection  life,  our  own  to-day ; 

He  only  in  Christ's  resurrection  liveth 
Who  gives,  as  Jesus  gave,  His  life  away. 

Then  gladly  come  we,  this  fair  Easter  morning, 
Bringing  such  spices  as  our  lives  afford, 

Not  to  an  empty  grave,  but — no  man  scorning — - 
To  those  He  rose  for,  and  our  risen  Lord. 


&  I)  c   Price. 

FOR  the  joy  set  before  thee — 
The  cross. 
For  the  gain  that  comes  after — 

The  loss. 
For  the  morning  that  smileth — 
The  night. 


GOD  KXOWS.  49 


For  the  peace  of  the  victor — 


The  fight. 


For  the  white  rose  of  goodness— 

The  thorn. 
For  the  Spirit's  deep  wisdom — 

Men's  scorn. 
For  the  sunshine  of  gladness — 

The  rain. 
For  the  fruit  of  God's  pruning — 

The  pain. 

For  the  clear  bells  of  triumph — 

A  knell. 
For  the  sweet  kiss  of  meeting — 

Farewell. 
For  the  height  of  the  mountain- 

The  steep. 
For  the  waking  in  heaven — 

Death's  sleep. 


(5  o  b    U  u  0  u)  s  . 

THERE  is  a  thought  upon  my  bosom  stealing, 
A  thought  that  ever,  with  each  tide  of  feeling, 
Ebbs  and  flows ; 
Flowing,  my  soul  its  mighty  flood  receiveth ; 
Ebbing,  it  still  on  me  its  impress  lcaveth — 
"  God  knows,  God  knows." 

As  ocean  waves  the  cliffs  majestic  smiting, 
Upon  the  rock  their  records  grand  are  writing, 
As  on  Time  goes, 
4 


50  COD  KNOWS, 


So  on  my  soul,  by  waves  of  sorrow  smitten, 
In  never-fading  characters  is  written, 

"  God  knows,  God  knows." 

God  knows  !    When  the  pure  tides  of  joy  arc  rising, 
And  all  my  spirit  in  their  flow  surprising 

With  pleasure  glows, 
Not  on  this  transient  mood  my  soul  relieth , 
One  blessed  thought  my  joy  intensifieth — 

"  God  knows,  God  knows." 

When  in  despair,  no  earthly  comfort  heeding, 
My  spirit  prostrate  lies,  all  crushed  and  bleeding 

From  cruel  blows, 
Soothed  is  each  shattered,  throbbing  nerve  of  feeling. 
Touched  by  this  thought,  as  by  a  hand  of  healing — 

"  God  knows,  God  knows." 

As  birds  within  their  nests,  no  danger  knowing, 
Are  rocked  by  tempests  that  without  are  blowing, 

To  sweet  repose, 
Rocked  in  the  cradle  of  Divine  compassion 
My  soul  is  safe  amid  the  storms  of  passion  ; 

"  God  knows,  God  knows." 

When  with  rebellious  thought  my  heart  is  burning, 
When  from  the  narrow  way  my  feet  are  turning 

To  walk  with  foes, 
In  vain  my  soul  her  guilty  secret  hidcth  ; 
Though  men  be  blind,  one  awful  truth  abideth — 

"  God  knows,  God  knows." 

When  on  the  promises  of  love  relying. 

My  soul  in  deep  contrition  bowed,  is  sighing 


THE  HILLS  OF  GOD.  5  I 


In  sorrow's  throes, 
Like  morning  dew  upon  the  flowers  distilling, 
There  comes  a  thought,  my  heart  with  comfort  filling, 

"  God  knows,  God  knows." 

Great  Sympathizer  in  my  joy  and  sorrow, 
Great  Keeper  of  the  present  and  the  morrow 

Till  Time  shall  close, 
Grant  that  forever  in  my  heart  remaining, 
This  truth  may  hold  me  by  its  power  restraining — 

"  God  knows,  God  knows." 


<El)c  flills  of  (Sob. 

,rT*IS  like  a  narrow  valley-land, 
J-      This  earthly  way  of  mine ; 

Before  me,  clad  in  glory  grand, 
I  see  the  hills  divine — 
Those  heights  the  saintly  long  have  trod- 
The  Hills  of  Hope,  the  Hills  of  God ! 

Though  mists  of  doubt  enfold  me  in, 
Though  through  the  dark  I  grope, 

The  upward  path  my  feet  may  win 
That  mounts  the  heavenly  slope ; 

And  walking  through  the  lowland  here, 

I  know  the  Hills  of  God  are  near. 

Unto  them  oft  I  lift  mine  eyes, 

That  oft  with  tears  are  wet, 
And  through  the  mist  they  calmly  rise 

Where  sun  no  more  shall  set. 


$2  BEHOLD,  I  KNOCK  I 


To  me  forever  grand  and  fair 

The  Hills  of  God — my  Help  is  there  ! 


Ddjolo,  3  Knock! 

BEHOLD,  I  knock  !     'Tis  piercing  cold  abroad 
This  bitter  winter-time ; 
The  ice  upon  the  dark  pines  has  not  thawed, 

The  earth  is  white  with  rime ; 
O  human  hearts !  are  ye  all  frozen  too, 
That  at  closed  doors  I  vainly  call  to  you  ? 
Is  there  not  one  will  open  to  his  Lord  ? 

Behold,  I  knock  ! 

Behold,  I  knock  !    The  evening  shadows  lie 

So  peaceful  near  and  far ; 
Earth  sleepeth,  but  in  yonder  cloudless  sky 

Glimmers  the  evening  star; 
'Tis  in  such  holy  twilight-time,  that  oft 
Full  many  a  stony  heart  hath  waxed  soft, 

Like  Nicodemus,  in  the  dark-drawn  night. 

Behold,  I  knock  ! 

Behold,  I  knock  !     O  soul,  art  thou  at  home  ? 

For  thy  Beloved  's  here  ; 
Hast  thou  made  ready  flowers  ere  He  should  come  ? 

Is  thy  lamp  burning  clear? 
Know'st  thou  how  such  a  Friend  received  should  be  ? 
Art  thou  in  bridal  garments  dressed  for  Me  ? 

Decked  with  thy  jewels  as  for  guests  most  dear? 

Behold,  I  knock ! 


THE  END,  53 


Behold,  I  knock  !     Say  not,  "  Tis  zephyr  mild 

Which  rustics  the  dead  leaf." 
It  is  thy  Saviour,  'tis  thy  God,  my  child, 

Let  not  thine  ear  be  deaf; 
If  I  come  now  in  breezes  soft  and  warm, 
I  may  return  again  upon  the  storm  ; 

'Tis  no  light  fancy — firm  be  thy  belief; 

Behold,  I  knock ! 

Behold,  I  knock  !    As  yet  I  am  thy  guest, 

Waiting  without  for  thee  ; 
The  time  shall  come  when,  homeless  and  distressed, 

Thou,  soul,  shalt  knock  for  Me ; 
To  those  who  heard  My  voice  ere  'twas  too  late, 
I  open  in  that  hour  My  peaceful  gate ; 

To  those  who  scorned,  a  closed  door  will  it  be. 

Behold,  I  knock ! 


£  I)  e    (£  n  tr . 

1"^ HE  course  of  the  weariest  river 
Ends  in  the  great  gray  sea ; 
The  acorn,  forever  and  ever, 

Strives  upward  to  the  tree. 
The  rainbow,  the  sky  adorning, 

Shines  promise  through  the  storm  ; 
The  glimmer  of  coming  morning 

Through  midnight  gloom  will  form. 
By  time  all  knots  are  riven, 

Complex  although  they  be, 
And  peace  will  at  last  be  given, 

Dear,  both  to  you  and  to  me. 


54  WISH INC  FOR   THE  DA  V. 


Then,  though  the  path  may  be  dreary, 

Look  onward  to  the  goal ; 
Though  the  heart  and  the  head  be  weary, 

Let  faith  inspire  the  soul. 
Seek  the  right,  though  the  wrong  be  tempting, 

Speak  truth  at  any  cost ; 
Vain  is  all  weak  exempting 

When  once  the  gem  is  lost. 
Let  strong  hand  and  keen  eye  be  ready 

For  plain  and  ambushed  foes  ; 
Thought  earnest  and  fancy  steady 

Bear  test  unto  the  close. 

The  heavy  clouds  may  be  raining, 

But  with  evening  comes  the  light ; 
Through  the  dark  are  low  winds  complaining, 

Yet  the  sunrise  gilds  the  height ; 
And  Love  has  his  hidden  treasure 

For  the  patient  and  the  pure ; 
And  Time  gives  his  fullest  measure 

To  the  workers  wrho  endure ; 
And  the  Word  that  no  law  has  shaken 

Has  the  future  pledge  supplied; 
For  we  know  that  when  we  "awaken 

We  shall  be  satisfied." 


iMioIjing  for  tlje  Dun. 

IN  the  horror  of  great  darkness, 
In  the  starless  midnight  gloom, 
'Mid  the  shrieking  of  the  tempest, 
'Mid  the  hissing  of  the  foam  ; 


WISHING  FOR   THE  DAY.  55 


When  the  sons  of  men  are  quailing, 
When  the  strongest  faith  is  failing, 

Sailor !  cast  an  anchor, 
Wishing  for  the  day. 

When  the  cnilly  sea-fog  curtain 

Gathers  close  with  stealthy  tread, 
While  weird  voices  strangely  whisper  : 

"  Breakers,  breakers  close  ahead  ! " 
In  the  agony  of  keeping 
The  stern  watch  that  knows  no  sleeping, 

Sailor !  cast  an  anchor, 
Wishing  for  the  day. 

When  a  more  than  midnight  darkness 

Hangs  its  heavy  pall  of  clouds, 
When  a  worse  than  ocean  tempest 

Rattles  through  the  shivering  shrouds, 
When  the  life-blood  is  congealing, 
When  the  heart  and  brain  are  reeling, 

Christian  !  cast  an  anchor, 
Wishing  for  the  day. 

When  the  icy  hand  of  sorrow 

Lays  its  grasp  upon  thy  heart, 

And  the  very  thought  of  thinking 

Makes  thine  inmost  being  start ; 

When  the  pulse  of  hope  is  failing, 

When  the  last  faint  star  is  paling, 

Christian  !  cast  an  anchor, 
Wishing  for  the  day. 

When  the  one  who's  gone  before  thee, 
In  the  bitter  thorny  road, 


56  HOMEWARD. 


Bids  thee  trace  the  bleeding  foot-prints 
Of  the  wounded  Son  of  God  ! — 

When  the  willing  spirit  chooses, 

And  the  writhing  flesh  refuses, 

Christian  !  cast  an  anchor, 
Wishing  for  the  day. 

When  the  corn  of  wheat  is  dying, 

In  its  dark  forgotten  tomb, 
And  the  glowing  golden  harvest 

Scarcely  glimmers  through  the  gloom  ; 
When  the  hand  that  sows  is  weary, 
And  the  barren  land  looks  dreary, 

Christian  !  cast  an  anchor, 
Washing  for  the  day. 

When  the  sound  of  coming  judgment 

Falls  on  many  a  startled  car, 
And  a  voice  is  on  the  mountains, 

Lo  !  the  Bridegroom  draweth  near  r 
When  earth's  bravest  sons  are  quaking, 
And  the  world's  foundations  shaking, 

Christian  !  ride  at  anchor, 
Tis  the  break  of  day. 


{jomeimuir. 

"There  rouaincth  a  rest,1 

THE  day  dies  slowly  in  the  western  sky ; 
The  sunset  splendor  fades,  and  wan  and  cold 
The  far  peaks  wait  the  sunrise  ;  cheerily 

The  goatherd  calls  his  wanderers  to  the  fold. 


SLEEP.  57 

My  weary  soul,  that  fain  would  cease  to  roam, 
Take  comfort ;  evening  bringeth  all  things  home. 

Homeward  the  swift-winged  sea-gull  takes  her  flight ; 

The  ebbing  tide  breaks  softer  on  the  sand  ; 
The  red-sailed  boats  draw  shoreward  for  the  night, 

The  shadows  deepen  over  sea  and  land. 
Be  still,  my  soul,  thine  hour  shall  also  come ; 
Behold,  one  evening,  God  shall  lead  thee  home  ! 


Sleep. 

O  GENTLE  sleep !  the  gracious  gift  and  blest 
Of  God's  own  sending  ; 
O  sacred  sleep  !  dear  foretaste  of  that  rest 

Which  knows  no  ending; 
Sweet  promise  of  that  far-off  Paradise 

Of  calm  release, 
Where  weary  ones  may  lean  on  Jesus'  breast, 
And  close  their  eyes, 
i\nd  be  at  peace. 

E^rth  "  presses  down  ; "  the  hearts  that  would  ascend 

Droop,  faint  and  wear}' ; 
So  distant  seems  the  life-long  journey's  end, 

The  way  so  drear}- ; 
Each  day's  fierce  struggle  tires  us  out,  as  though 

We  could  no  more, 
Then  comes  Thine  handmaid,  Sleep,  our  griefs  to  tend, 

With  balm  for  woe, 

And  strength  in  store. 


5S  THE  MYSTIC  STEERSMAN. 


We  lay  us  down  in  peace — Thy  touch  divine 

Our  eyelids  closing ; 
Darkness — Thy  secret  place — becomes  the  shrine 

Of  our  reposing ; 
Gently  we  breathe  our  souls  into  Thy  care, 

So  glad  to  be 
One  day  more  near  to  that  home-rest  of  Thine, 

Which  we  may  share 

With  saints  and  Thee. 

So  night  by  night  we  linger  at  Thy  feet, 

Until  the  morning; 
Glimpses  of  heaven,  bright  visions  pure  and  sweet, 

Our  dreams  adorning; 
And  if  Thy  voice,  kind  Lord,  we  seem  to  hear, 

That  word  most  blest 
For  willing  souls,  with  sympathy  replete, 

Falls  on  our  ear, 

"  Sleep — take  your  rest ! " 


£I)c  ittnette  Steersman. 

Oil,  fragile  bark  upon  an  unknown  sea, 
Whose  solemn  surges  find  no  echoing  strand, 
Who  is  the  steersman  that  so  patiently 
Does  at  the  magic  wheel  forever  stand  ? 

When  angry  billows  sleep,  and  skies  are  fair, 

And  sails  flap  idly  in  the  fitful  wind, 
Anxious  to  learn  my  bearings,  what  they  are, 

I  turn  and  shout  into  the  dark  behind  ; 


THE  MYSTIC  STEERSMA.V.  59 


Then  listen.     But  no  echo  comes  again  ; 

Disconsolate  I  turn  me  round,  and  now 
Attempt  with  straining  eyes  to  scan  the  main, 

But  see  no  farther  than  my  vessel's  prow. 

I  sometimes  wonder  why  so  frail  a  thing 
Was  ever  launched  upon  so  vast  a  sea ; 

But  what  avails  my  dreamy  wondering, 
What  answer  has  it  ever  brought  to  me  ? 

Yet  in  the  soul  I  hear  meek  whisperings, 

And  sounds  from  fairer  climes  float  on  the  air; 

While  faith,  luxurious,  plumes  her  drooping  wings, 
And  gives  herself  to  loving  trust  and  prayer. 

When  dismal,  chilling  fogs  of  doubt  shut  down, 
Brooding  like  night  through  many  weary  miles, 

The  love  that  many  waters  can  not  drown 

Looks  up — through  rifts  of  blue  the  sunshine  smiles. 

If  storms  arise,  and  hoarse  wild  seas  run  high, 
And  fears  that  all  is  lost  come  with  the  swell, 

Let  me  but  hear  the  whisper,  "  It  is  I," 
And  there  is  calm  more  sweet  than  I  can  tell. 

When  passion's  whirlwind  howls  across  the  deep, 
And  signs  of  danger  threaten  more  and  more, 

Straightway  I  call  the  Master.     Does  He  sleep  ? 
Ah,  no !  who  sails  with  Him  comes  safe  to  shore. 

Therefore  I  trust  my  faithful  unseen  Guide, 

And,  meekly  suppliant,  lift  the  outstretched  hand, 

Begging  my  saintly  Watcher  to  abide, 
And  bring  my  frail  bark  safe  to  fatherland. 


6o  "blind  spinner: 


l)is  tUill  be  {Done. 

HIS  will  be  done  :  thou  canst  not  pause  or  shrink, 
But  humbly  place  thy  neck  beneath  His  feet; 
Perchance  the  cup  He  giveth  thee  to  drink 

May  yet  be  sweet. 

His  will  be  done  :  thou  canst  not  choose,  but  bear 

The  cross  His  wisdom  to  thy  weakness  gave ; 
Perchance  its  weight  may  vanish  into  air, 

If  thou  be  brave. 

His  will  be  done :  the  way  seems  dark  and  drear, 
But  thou  must  keep  it  till  the  end  shall  come ; 
Perchance  e'en  now  bright  angels  linger  near 

To  bear  thee  home. 

His  will  be  done :  it  is  the  last  sad  strife, 

But  thou  must  wrestle  till  the  foe  shall  flee — 
Till  heaven's  own  measure  of  eternal  life 

Contenteth  thee. 


"Blinb  Spinner 


11 


LIKE  a  blind  spinner  in  the  sun, 
I  tread  my  clays  ; 
I  know  that  all  the  threads  will  run 

Appointed  ways ; 
I  know  each  day  will  bring  its  task, 
And,  being  blind,  no  more  I  ask. 


"BLIND  SPINA1 EM."  61 


I  do  not  know  the  use  or  name 

Of  that  I  spin  ; 
I  only  know  that  some  one  came, 

And  laid  within 
My  hand  the  thread,  and  said  :  "  Since  you 
Are  blind,  but  one  thing  you  can  do." 

Sometimes  the  threads  so  rough  and  fast 

And  tangled  fly, 
I  know  wild  storms  are  sweeping  past, 

And  fear  that  I 
Shall  fall,  but  dare  not  try  to  find 
A  safer  place,  since  I  am  blind. 

I  know  not  why,  but  I  am  sure 

That  tint  and  place, 
In  some  great  fabric  to  endure 

Past  time  and  race, 
My  threads  will  have ;  so,  from  the  first, 
Though  blind,  I  never  felt  accurst. 

I  think,  perhaps,  this  trust  has  sprung 

From  one  short  word 
Said  over  me  when  I  was  young — 

So  young  I  heard 
It,  knowing  not  that  God's  name  signed 
My  brow,  and  sealed  me  His,  though  blind. 

But  whether  this  be  seal  or  sign, 

Within,  without, 
It  matters  not ;  the  bond  Divine 

I  never  doubt. 
I  know  He  set  me  here,  and  still 
And  glad  and  blind,  I  wait  His  will — 


62  BLESSING  IN  VENIAL. 


But  listen,  listen,  day  by  day, 

To  hear  the  tread 
Who  bear  the  finished  web  away, 

And  cut  the  thread, 
And  bring  God's  message  in  the  sun, 
"  Thou  poor  blind  spinner,  work  is  done." 


Slcssing  in  Denial. 

T  ASKED  of  God  a  single  gift  ; 
-*-  He  said  me  nay. 

"  He  does  not  see  my  aching  heart," 
I  could  but  say. 

Then  in  its  stead,  He  sent  to  me 

A  priceless  gift, 
That  on  my  heart  in  glory  burst 

As  sun  through  rift. 

And  in  my  ear  He  whispered  low, 

"  Dost  thou  not  see, 
Oh,  doubting  child,  how  I  have  proved 

My  love  to  thee 

11  By  granting  not  thy  earnest  prayer, 
That  I  might  give 
A  greater  blessing  in  its  stead  ? 
Rejoice  and  live." 


THE  CHAMBER  OF  PEACE.  63 


£I)c  (Cl)amber  of  peace. 

**  The  pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber,  tuhose  windoiu 
opened  toward  the  simrising.  The  name  of  the  chamber  ivas  Peace , 
•where  he  slept  till  break  0/  day" — Pilgrim's  Progress. 

IN  a  pleasant  upper  chamber 
Weary  Christian  lay, 
Sleeping  till  the  light  of  morning 

Chased  his  dreams  away  ; 
Sound  the  rest,  and  sweet  the  dreaming, 

After  holy  feast ; 
Sweeter  still  the  sunrise  beaming 
From  the  rosy  east. 

Through  long  nights  of  pain  and  sorrow, 

Wakeful  in  the  gloom, 
I  have  thought  of  Christian  sleeping 

In  that  peaceful  room, 
Soothed  by  counsel  fitly  spoken, 

Talk  of  sacred  things  ; 
Slumber  was  a  loving  token 

From  the  King  of  kings. 

Times  of  bountiful  refreshment 

God  vouchsafes  to  give  ; 
Oft  He  bids  us  wake  rejoicing, 

Strong  to  work  and  live. 
But  how  calm  the  resting-places 

Where  His  loved  ones  lie, 
When  they  sleep  with  quiet  faces 

To  the  eastern  sky  ! 

Sweet  to  know  the  pilgrim's  slumber, 
Hallowed  by  His  grace  ! 


64  "NOT  AS  THE  WORLD. 


Sweet  to  wake  "  next  door  to  heaven  " 

For  a  little  space  ! 
Sweeter  still  another  waking 

After  longer  night, 
When  His  day  of  glory,  breaking, 

Calls  the  saints  to  light ! 


a 


Not  no  ilje  toorlb." 


11  Peace  I  leave  with  you  ;  my  fie  ace  I  give  unto  you.  Not  as  the 
world  givcth  give  I  unto  you.  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled ; 
neither  let  it  be  afraid.*'1 


"N 


OT  as  the  world  ! " 
O  words  of  consolation  ! 
O  solace  of  the  soul  in  tribulation  ! 

"  Peace  unto  you  I  leave, 
But  not  as  gives  the  world  my  peace  I  give." 

How  gives  the  world  ? 
With  small  and  scanty  measure  ; 
A  cup  of  bitterness  with  every  pleasure, 

And  promises  of  gain 
Whose  poor  fulfillment  brings  but  woe  and  pain  ! 

"  Not  as  the  world  !  " 
With  infinite  compassion 
He  speaks,  and  word  and  lone  of  God-like  fashion  : 

"  Peace  unto  you  I  leave, 
But  not  as  gives  the  world  my  peace  I  give." 

What  gives  the  world  ? 
Vain  honors  ;  empty  yearnings 


HE  ST.  6^ 


o 


For  fame  and  wealth,  and  strifes  and  fierce  heart- 
burnings, 

And  cheap,  deceitful  pleasure, 
And  shame,  and  groans,  and  sorrow  without  measure. 

"  Not  as  the  world  !  " 
Sweet  rest  from  hopeless  craving, 
From  fear  of  endless  woe  and  hellish  slaving, 

Such  legacy  He  leaveth 
To  every  child  who  on  His  name  believeth. 

"  Not  as  the  world  ! " 
Hear  Him,  ye  poor  and  lowly ; 
To  man  He  speaks,  the  Saviour,  high  and  holy  : 

"  Peace  unto  you  I  leave, 
But  not  as  gives  the  world  my  peace  I  give," 


Rest. 


HOW  sweet,  how  passing  sweet, 
Rest  even  here  to  see, 
To  rest  my  soul  at  Jesus'  feet, 
So  near,  my  Lord,  to  Thee. 

At  dawning  light  I  lay 

On  Thee  my  every  care, 
For  well  I  know  through  all  the  day 

My  burdens  Thou  wilt  bear. 

Through  sorrow's  darkening  fall 
I  still  will  rest  with  Thee, 

For  Thou  dost  hear  the  raven's  call, 
And  Thou  dost  care  for  me. 
5 


66  WAITING. 


Night  falls  with  shadows  deep, 
With  Thee  I  calmly  rest ; 

Thou  givest  Thy  beloved  sleep, 
Close  nestled  to  Thy  breast. 


to  a  i  t  i  n  g . 

14  More  than  they  that  watch  for  the  morning? 

COME  to  us,  Lord  of  love  and  light, 
Come  to  the  souls  that  watch  and  wait ! 
Wearily  long  has  been  the  night, 
And  we  see  no  dawn,  though  the  hour  is  late. 

Eagerly  we  lift  our  straining  eyes, 
Vainly  trying  to  pierce  the  gloom, 

Looking  toward  the  Eastern  skies, 

If  happily  at  last  we  may  see  Thee  come. 

The  sorrowful  nations  are  needing  Thee  ; 

The  people  in  tumult  are  tossed  about 
Like  the  waves  of  the  restless  sea, 

Moved  by  passion,  and  hate,  and  doubt. 


Men  are  groping  amid  the  night, 
And  the  hour  is  heavy  with  many  a  sigh  ; 

Come  to  us,  Master,  with  love  and  light, 

Lest  we  faint  in  the  darkness  and  droop  and  die. 

But  there  comes  a  voice  in  the  silence  deep  : 
44  Wait,  be  patient,  it  Is  not  long!" 

So  we  rise  from  our  sorrow  and  no  more  weep, 
But  cheer  the  darkness  with  love  and  song. 


HE  A  FEN  NEAR.  67 


Coming  !  coming!     Oh,  is  it  so  ? 

Do  we  hear  the  sound  of  Thy  chariot-wheels  ? 
Saviour,  all  else  that  we  long  to  know 

We  will  leave  till  Thy  wiser  love  reveals. 

The  hours  pass  slowly  ;  the  morning  chime 
Is  long  in  sounding.     But  let  us  wait. 

Soon  we  shall  come  to  the  end  of  time, 
And  see  the  Lord  at  the  golden  gate. 

Saviour,  while  passes  our  cheerless  night, 
And  our  souls  oft  weary  and  hopeless  be, 

We  dream  of  that  wonderful  morning  light, 
When  our  eyes  shall  open  and  look  on  Thee. 


fycavcn  Near. 

M  There  is  a  Happy  Laiid, 
Far,  far  away." 

OH,  say  not  so  !  my  heart,  with  sorrow  swelling, 
Would  quicker  throb,  and  keener  anguish  know ; 
And  from  the  secret  place  of  grief's  indwelling, 

More  bitter  tears  would  flow  ! 
The  tender,  farewell  kiss,  and  dying  blessing, 

Would  crush  my  spirit  with  a  weight  of  woe  j 
And  wide  athwart  life's  sky  dark  clouds  would  gather, 
If  this  i?idecd  were  so. 

Oh,  say  not  so  !  that  disembodied  spirits, 

Leaving  earth's  mourners  with  the  lifeless  clay, 

Plume  their  bright  wings  a  Heaven  to  inherit 
That  lieth  "far  away  /  " 


6S  HEAVEN  NEAR. 


How  shall  dull  thought  traverse  the  weary  distance  ? 

How  shall  faith's  eye  the  dear  departed  see, 
If  the  fond  members  of  a  broken  household 

Are  far  removed  from  me  ? 

Oh,  tell  me  not  that  "  Happy  Land  "  lies  distant  ; 

That  far  away  from  Time's  receding  shore 
Are  built  the  Heavenly  mansions — home  eternal, 

Of  loved  ones  gone  before  ! 
'Tis  sweeter  far  to  think  that  Death's  cold  river 

Is  but  a  narroiv  stream,  whose  swelling  tide, 
Though  deep  and  dark  to  us,  with  golden  shimmer 

Breaks  on  the  heavenly  side. 

And  it  is  sweet  to  think  the  glorious  portals, 

Within  which  dwell  the  Eternal,  sacred  Three, 
Though  all  unseen  by  longing  eyes  of  mortals, 

Are  ever  near  to  me  ! 
That  the  worn  spirit  by  the  shining  threshold 

May  fold  its  wings  and  calmly  sink  to  rest, 
Catching,  perchance,  the  echo  of  the  chorus 

They  sing  among  the  blest. 

And  when  the  heart  grows  faint  in  life's  great  struggle, 

And  brightest  scenes  are  dimmed  by  many  a  tear, 
A  kind  relief  is  granted — if  Faith  whispers 

"A  better  home  is  near." 
Then  visions  of  the  loved  ones  flit  before  us, 

And  spirit-hands  we  clasp  within  our  own, 
And  know,  by  rustling  angel-pinions  o'er  us, 

We  journey  not  alone  ! 

Then  say  not  so!  I  would  have  Heaven  near  me, 
Only  a  veil  my  home  and  me  between, 


THE  NE  IV  HE  A  VEX.  69 


Which  death  may  raise,  and  in  a  moment  usher 

The  soul  to  the  unseen  ! 
Then  shall  the  hand  that  clasps  the  loved  in  dying 

Retain  the  grasp,  till  Christ  the  other  take, 
And  I  may  sleep  one  moment  on  Love's  bosom, 

The  7iext  in  bliss  awake  ! 


£l)e  Xcxd  fjeaucu. 

MY  God,  I'd  rather  look  to  Thee 
Than  to  these  fancies  fond, 
And  wait  till  Thou  reveal  to  me 
That  fair  and  far  Beyond. 

In  Thee  my  powers,  my  treasures  live, 
To  Thee  my  life  must  tend  ; 

Giving  Thyself,  Thou  all  dost  give, 
O  soul-sufficing  Friend ! 

And  wherefore  should  I  seek  above 

Thy  City  in  the  sky  ? 
Since  firm  in  faith,  and  deep  in  love, 

Its  broad  foundations  lie  ; 

Since  in  a  life  of  peace  and  prayer, 
Nor  known  on  earth,  nor  praised, 

By  humblest  toil,  by  ceaseless  care, 
Its  holy  towers  are  raised. 

Where  faith  the  soul  hath  purified, 
And  penitence  hath  shriven, 

And  truth  is  crowned  and  glorified, 
There — only  there — is  Heaven. 


70  MY  SAVIOUR. 


o 


'  (D  n  1 11  / 


NLY  a  blade  of  grass, 
As  it  grew  in  a  darkened  court ; 
But  its  slender,  finger-like,  graceful  spire 
Upward  pointing  to  the  soul's  desire, 
Caught  the  hopeless  eye  of  a  fainting  one, — 
And,  lo  !  the  message  was  brought. 

Only  one  little  word  ; 
But  it  stirred  the  depths  of  a  living  heart, 
And  there,  through  the  years  and  the  changes  of  life, 
With  its  blessing  and  glory,  its  darkness  and  strife, 
The  soul  of  that  little  word  shall  abide, 

And  nevermore  depart. 

Only  a  breath  of  air, 
Sent  by  the  love  of  the  Merciful  One, 
And  the  quivering  life  awaked  and  renewed, 
By  the  touch  of  the  Lord  was  freshly  imbued 
As  this  Border-Land  whisper  was  borne  to  his  soul— 

"  Thy  work  is  not  done." 

Only  a  second  of  Time  ; — 
Briefest  of  all,  yet  Eternity's  master ! 
Holds  for  the  sinner  in  powerful  grasp, 
Pardon  and  peace  if  the  promise  he  clasp ; 
A  promise  divine,  oh,  sinner  attending, 
A  glory  unchanging  is  yours  never  ending, — 

"  Only  believe !" 


M 


ill  11  S  a  v  i  o  u  r . 

Yslecplc'ss  eyes  were  dim  with  tears, 
My  heart  was  sad  with  nameless  fears ; 


MY  SAVIOUR.  71 


When  One  I  knew  not  came  to  me, 
And  saved  my  soul  from  misery. 

The  radiance  of  that  Light  divine 
Into  my  night  of  gloom  did  shine  ; 
I  saw  the  One  who  died  for  me 
Turn  and  look  on  me  lovingly. 

Ecstatic  joy  my  being  thrilled  ; 
Glory  the  earth  and  heavens  filled  ; 
My  day  of  peace  began  to  dawn  ; 
I  reveled  in  that  golden  morn. 

But  He,  the  loving  friend  and  true, 
Soon  gave  me  sterner  work  to  do  ; 
Led  me  into  the  wilderness, 
To  trace  the  way  of  holiness. 

I  met  the  Tempter,  felt  his  power, 
And  yielded  in  an  evil  hour; 
Crushed,  bleeding,  guilty,  helpless  lay, 
Far  from  the  straight  and  narrow  way. 

Out  of  the  depths  of  my  despair 
I  cried  to  God  to  meet  me  there ; 
To  clothe  me  with  His  panoply, 
And  from  foe  to  set  me  free. 

He  came,  the  strong  Deliverer, 
And  made  me  more  than  conqueror ; 
His  love,  a  power  within,  my  heart 
Scathless  became  to  Satan's  art. 

And  now  I  walk  the  earth  a  king, 
Crowned  with  the  thorns  of  suffering; 


Wearing  the  robe  that  Jesus  wore, 
Bearing  the  heavy  cross  He  bore. 

Waiting  to  join  the  countless  throng 
That  sing  Heaven's  jubilant  new  song; 
Waiting  to  reign  with  Christ  above  : 
Waiting  the  fullness  of  His  love. 


JJibc  a  lUa%  nnb  Diana  -fret. 

S  the  road  very  dreary  ? 
Patience  yet ! 
Rest  will  be  sweeter  if  thou  art  aweary, 
And  after  night  cometh  the  morning  cheery, 
Then  bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret. 


i 


The  clouds  have  a  silver  lining, 
Don't  forget ; 
And  though  he's  hidden,  still  the  sun  is  shining; 
Courage  !  instead  of  tears  and  vain  repining, 

Just  bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret. 

With  toil  and  cares  unending 
Art  beset  ? 
Bethink  thee,  how  the  storms  from  heaven  descending 
Snap  the  stiff  oak,  but  spare  the  willow  bending, 

And  bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret. 

Grief  sharper  sting  doth  borrow 
From  regret ; 
But  yesterday  is  gone,  and  shall  its  sorrow 
Unfit  us  for  the  present  and  the  morrow  ? 

Nay ;  bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret. 


THE  NIGHT  COMETH.  73 


An  over-anxious  brooding 
Doth  beget 
A  host  of  fears  and  fantasies  deluding ; 
Then,  brother,  lest  these  torments  be  intruding, 

Just  bide  a  wee,  and  dinna  fret. 


£Ijc  £to0  QLatiblts. 

I  SAW  two  candles  :  one  unlighted  lay, 
The  other  lighted  stood  ; 
And  a  pale  man  beneath  its  slender  ray 
His  nightly  toil  pursued. 

In  patient  zeal  he  drew  his  failing  sight 

O'er  many  a  mystic  page ; 
And  with  the  harvest  of  that  quiet  night 

He  turned  to  bless  his  age. 

But  when  the  pearl  of  dawn  dissolved  in  day, 

The  candle  flashed  its  last ; 
And  yet  that  other  candle  perfect  lay, 

Unchanged  by  all  had  passed. 

"  Better,"  I  said,  "  to  live,  and  waste  in  living, 

Than  lie  in  useless  sleep ; 
Who  gives  to  others  what  is  worth  the  giving, 

Can  not  both  give  and  keep." 


c 


£!)e  2ugl)t  ComctI). 

OMETH  the  night,  wherein  no  man  may  labor, 
Therefore  we  work  while  yet  the  day  is  light ; 


74  THE  A'lGI/T  COMETH. 


To  thee,  to  me,  to  foeman,  friend,  and  neighbor, 
Cometh  the  night — the  night. 

Toil  on,  toil  on,  nor  dally  with  the  morning, 

Sweet  siren,  couching  in  a  thousand  snares ; 
Faithless  she  flies — scanty  and  brief  her  warning — 
Leaving  thee  unawares. 

Then  amorous  breath  of  noon  will  tempt  to  pleasure, 

And  ease,  and  rest,  until  the  heat  be  past : 
Arise  and  work !    We  have  no  time  for  leisure, 
Whose  sky  is  overcast. 

Aye,  overcast.   Though  morn  be  sweet  and  pleasant. 

And  later  noon  shall  offer  fresh  delight, 
He  surely  sees  no  looks  beyond  the  present, 
The  shadow  of  the  night. 

Terrible  night  to  those  with  task  half  ended, 
Who  revel  carelessly  through  rosy  hours  ; 
Leaving  the  corn,  the  goodly  corn,  untendcd, 
To  gather  in  the  flowers 

WThich  close  or  droop  or  die  when  eve  advances, 

And,  lo  !  the  sorry  harvest  withered  lies  ; 
And  phantoms  of  lost  hope,  lost  time,  lost  chances, 
Out  of  the  gloom  arise. 

Not  so  comes  night  to  all.  Sweet  sleep  will  strengthen 

Toilers  with  burden  of  the  day  opprest ; 
To  whom  the  evening  shadows,  while  they  lengthen, 
Bring  peace  and  hard-won  rest. 

( )h,  welcome  rest  for  weary  hearts  and  aching, 
And  wounded  feet  all  travel-stained  and  sore ! 


LIGHT  IN  DARKNESS.  75 


Welcome  the  rest,  thrice  welcome  the  awaking, 
Never  to  need  it  more. 

Work,  then,  nor  fear  the  struggle  and  the  labor ; 
For  though  maybe  the  day  yet  seemeth  bright, 
To  thee,  to  me,  to  foeman,  friend,  and  neighbor, 
Cometh  the  night — the  night. 


£igt)t  in  Darkness. 

"He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take." — Job  xxiii.  8-10. 

f 

I  KNOW  not — the  way  is  so  misty — 
The  joys  or  the  griefs  it  shall  bring, 
What  clouds  are  o'erhanging  the  future, 

What  flowers  by  the  roadside  shall  spring , 
But  there's  One  who  will  journey  beside  me, 

Nor  in  weal  nor  in  woe  will  forsake ; 
And  this  is  my  solace  and  comfort — 
"  He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take." 

1  stand  where  the  cross-roads  are  meeting, 

And  know  not  the  right  from  the  wrong ; 
No  beckoning  fingers  direct  me, 

No  welcome  floats  to  me  in  song ; 
But  my  Guide  will  soon  give  me  a  token 

By  wilderness,  mountain,  or  lake  : 
Whatever  the  darkness  about  me 

"  He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take." 

It  is  true  that  I  can  not  perceive  Him  ; 

If  backward  or  forward  I  go, 
He  hideth  Himself;  but  He  tries  me, 

That  more  of  His  love  I  may  know. 


76  THE  SUMMONS. 


And,  oh,  that  the  gold  may  be  purer, 

For  the  trouble  that  comes  for  love's  sake ! 

I  am  not  afraid  of  life's  sorrow, 
"  He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take." 

Who  knoweth  ?  The  Father  who  loves  me, 

The  Saviour  who  suffered  for  me  ; 
The  Spirit  all  present  to  guide  me, 

Whatever  the  future  shall  be. 
So  let  me  have  hope  and  take  courage, 

This  truth  shall  my  joy-anthem  make, 
The  Lord  is  my  strong  tower  of  refuge, 

°  He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take." 

And  I  know  that  the  way  leadeth  homeward, 

To  the  land  of  the  pure  and  blest, 
To  the  country  of  ever-fair  summer, 

To  the  city  of  peace  and  of  rest ; 
And  there  shall  be  healing  for  sickness, 

And  fountains  life's  fever  to  slake  ; 
What  matters  beside  ?     I  go  heavenward, 

"  He  knoweth  the  way  that  I  take." 


®I)c  Summons. 

MY  summons  may  come  in  the  morning, 
Or  the  deep  peaceful  slumber  of  night; 
It  may  come  with  a  lingering  warning, 

Or  as  quick  as  a  flash  of  sunlight ; 
It  may  come  while  I'm  thinking  of  heaven  ; 
It  may  come  while  my  thoughts  are  astray; 


HAVE  MERCY,  JESU.  77 


While  I'm  sitting  alone  in  my  dwelling, 
Or  greeting  some  friend  on  the  way ; 

But  the  day  or  the  hour,  when  the  bidding 
Comes  to  me,  I  never  can  know, 

And  I  pray,  at  the  call  of  the  Master, 
I  may  answer :  "I'm  ready  to  go  ! " 

It  may  come  while  I'm  working  for  others, 

Or  laying  out  plans  for  myself; 
It  may  come  when  I'm  laid,  as  a  well-worn 

And  useless  old  book,  on  a  shelf ; 
It  may  come  when  my  life,  full  of  sweetness, 

Would  fain  have  it  tarry  awhile ; 
It  may  come  when  my  sorrow's  completeness 

Makes  me  welcome  the  call  with  a  smile ; 
Though  it  fall  in  the  gentlest  of  whispers, 

Or  sound  with  a  deep,  startling  knell, 
I  pray  only  that  I  may  be  ready 

To  answer :  "  Dear  Lord,  it  is  well ! " 


My  soul  cleaveth  to  the  dust ;  quicken  Thou  niey  according 

to  Thy  word. 

MY  soul  fast  cleaveth  to  the  dust ; 
My  heart  within  is  dead  and  cold ; 
I'm  blown  about  by  every  gust ; 
No  certain  anchorage  I  hold. 
I  fain  would  lift  mine  eyes  on  high, 

But,  all  unpurged,  they  can  not  see; 
I  feel  like  one  about  to  die, — 
Have  mercy,  Jesu,  quicken  me  ! 


78  APART. 

My  life  is  like  the  untilled  land, 

On  which  no  flower  or  fruitage  grows ; 
Tis  like  a  waste  of  arid  sand, 

A  wintry  landscape  clothed  with  snows. 
All  empty  are  the  vanished  years ; 

Shall  like  the  past  the  future  be  ? 
'Gainst  this  I  plead  with  prayers  and  tears, 

Have  mercy,  Jesu,  quicken  me  ! 

My  life  is  like  to  plants  that  creep, 

Like  plants  that  droop  and  touch  the  ground 
No  seed  I  sow,  no  harvest  reap, 

All  barren  as  the  months  go  round. 
Uproot  me,  then,  and  plant  again, 

I  would  be  fruitful  unto  Thee ; 
Prune,  cleanse  me,  Lord,  I'll  scorn  the  pain ; 

Have  mercy,  Jesu,  quicken  me  ! 


SXpatt. 

" "Come  ye  yourselves  a/>art  into  a  desert  J>lace,  and  rest  awhile." 

— Mark  vL  31. 

COME  ye  yourselves  apart  awhile,  and  rest, 
Once  Christ  to  His  own  followers  did  say; 
And  still  doth  lie,  who  knowcth  what  is  best 
For  His  own  loved  ones,  speak  to  some  to-day. 

He  often  calls  with  Him  to  come  aside 

To  the  seclusion  of  a  quiet  room, 
Those  who  with  Him  more  closely  may  abide, 

That  I  [is  sweet  lessons  to  their  hearts  may  come. 


APART.  79 

To  be  alone  with  Him  ; — this  is  to  rest — 

To  rest  awhile  from  busy  thoughts  and  care ; 

To  be  reposing  on  His  tender  breast, 
And  learn  what  joy  and  peace  and  love  are  there. 

One  taste  of  God's  dear  love  in  Jesus  found, 
How  precious  to  the  waiting,  longing  soul ! 

Though  earth's  best  gifts  and  pleasures  may  abound; 
This  priceless  love  doth  far  surpass  the  whole. 

If  we  this  Saviour  know  from  sin  to  save, 
The  Holy  Spirit  for  our  teacher  take, 

We  then  are  rich,— -for  all  things  best  we  have, 
Which  God,  with  Him,  will  give  for  His  dear  sake. 

And  if  in  wisdom  He  doth  judge  it  meet 
The  cup  of  suffering  to  our  lips  to  press, 

His  tender  mercy  is  e'en  then  complete — 

His  own  right  hand  doth  still  uphold  and  bless. 

And  should  the  furnace  be  exceeding  hot, 
Which  some  of  these,  Thine  own,  are  called  to  bear, 

Oh,  Thou,  who  art  Thyself  the  Son  of  God, 
Wilt  Thou  be  found  still  walking  with  them  there  ? 

We  know  Thy  promises  are  ever  sure, 
Thy  trusting  ones  Thou  never  wilt  forsake  ; 

Oh,  grant  that  these  may  to  the  end  endure, 
Whate'er  Thy  holy  will  may  give  or  take  ! 


So  1  AM  XOT  WORTHY. 


3  am  not  toortljn. 


"Lord,  I  am  not  ivorthy  that  Thou  shouhht  ccmc  under  my  roof . 
hut  speak  the  word  only  and  >ny  servant  shall  be  healed."— "Matt. 
\iii.  8. 

a]     AM  not  worthy."     Is  not  this  the  thought 
J-       That  soonest  springs  within  the  happy  breast 

When  the  dear  love,  long  dreamed  of  and  desired, 
In  tender  whispers  is  at  last  confessed  ? 

Before  the  overwhelming  bliss  of  love  returned, 
The  soul  shrinks  back  in  deep  humility ; 

"  I  am  not  worthy  of  this  mighty  joy, — 

What  have  I  done  that  it  should  come  to  me  ?  " 

If  human  love  brings  questionings  like  these, 

What  says  the  heart,  all  soiled  and  smirched  with 
sin, 

When  at  her  door  Incarnate  Love  Himself, 
The  King  of  Glory,  seeks  to  enter  in  ? 

"  I  am  not  worthy,  Lord,  that  Thou  shouldst  come 
Under  my  roof."     This  her  first  cry,  and  then, 

As  Faith  draws  near  she  waxes  bold,  "  He  heals 
With  but  a  word."     "  Speak,  Lord,  with  power 
again !" 


®  I)  c   JJilgrim. 

A  PILGRIM  am  I,  on  my  way 
To  seek  and  find  the  Holy  Land. 
Scarce  had  I  started,  when  there  lay 

And  marched  round  mc  a  fourfold  band. 


THE  PILGRIM.  8 1 


A  smiling  Joy,  a  weeping  Woe, 
A  Hope,  a  Fear,  did  with  me  go ; 
And  one  may  come,  or  one  be  gone ; 
But  I  am  never  more  alone. 

My  little  Hope,  she  pines  and  droops, 
And  finds  it  hard  to  live  on  earth  ; 
But  then  some  pitying  angel  stoops 
To  lift  her  out  of  frost  and  dearth, 
And  bears  her  on  before,  and  up, 
To  taste,  out  of  our  Saviour's  cup, 
Such  cheer  as  here  she  can  not  find, 
While  patiently  I  plod  behind. 

Thus  oft  I  send  her  from  below — 

Poor  little  Hope — for  change  of  air. 
I  miss  her  sorely;  but  I  know 
That  God  of  her  is  taking  care. 

And  when  my  earthly  course  is  done, 
To  heaven's  gate  I'll  see  her  run 
To  meet  me  'mid  the  shining  bands, 
With  full  fruition  in  her  hands. 

My  Fear  I  give  to  Faith  to  still 

With  lullabies  upon  her  breast. 
She  sings  to  him  :  "  Our  Father's  will, 
Not  ours,  be  done,  for  His  is  best," 
And  lays  him  down  to  sleep,  in  bowers- 
Beneath  the  Cross — of  passion-flowers. 
But  ever  yet  he  wakes  in  pain, 
And  finds  ,his  way  to  me  again. 

But  Woe — she  scarce  will  loose  her  hold. 
She  sits  and  walks  and  runs  with  me, 


82  "COME   UXTO  ME. 


And  watches.     Ere  the  sun  with  gold 
Pays  to  the  East  his  entrance  fee, 
She  stirs,  and  stares  me  in  the  face, 
And  drives  me  from  each  stopping-place. 
A  guardian  angel  in  disguise 
Seems  looking  through  her  tearful  eyes. 

Perhaps  she  hath  a  charge  from  God 

To  see  that  ne'er,  through  Satan's  camp, 
I  slumber  on  my  dangerous  way 
Too  sound  or  long.     A  safety-lamp, 
Meantime,  by  Joy  is  carried  nigh, 
Somewhat  aloof ;  for  he  is  shy, 
Too  shy  within  my  grasp  to  stay, 
Though  seldom  is  he  far  away. 

Thus,  fellow-pilgrims,  fare  we  on  : 

But,  in  what  mortals  call  my  death, 
My  Fear  is  doomed  to  die  anon ; 
When  Woe  shall  leave  me  safe — so  saith 
My  sweet-voiced  Hope — and  turn  to  bring 
Some  other  soul ;  while  Joy  shall  spring 
With  me  through  heaven's  strait  door,  to  be 
Forever  of  my  company. 


"  (ffomc  nnta  l\\c. 


1 1 


A 


SWEETER  song  than  e'er  was  sung 


By  poet,  priest,  or  sages  ; 
A  song  which  through  all  heaven  has  rung, 
And  down  through  all  the  ages. 


"COME  UNTO  ME?  8$ 


A  precious  strain  of  sweet  accord, 

A  note  of  cheer  from  Christ  our  Lord  ; 

List !  as  it  vibrates  full  and  free, 

Oh  !  grieving  heart,  "  Come  unto  Me. 

Oh  !  wise  provision,  sweet  command, 
Vouchsafed  the  weak  and  weary ; 

A  friend  to  find  on  either  hand, 
A  light  for  prospect  dreary. 

A  friend  who  knows  our  bitter  need, 

Of  each  endeavor  taking  heed  ; 

Who  calls  to  every  soul  opprest, 

"  Come  unto  Me,  I'll  give  you  rest ! " 

"  Come  unto  Me."    The  way's  not  long 
His  hands  are  stretched  to  meet  thee 
Now  still  thy  sobbing,  list  the  song 

Which  everywhere  shall  greet  thee. 
Here  at  His  feet  your  burden  lay, 
Why  'neath  it  bend  another  day, 
Since  one  so  loving  calls  to  thee, 
"  Oh,  heavy  laden,  come  to  Me  ! " 

A  sweeter  song  than  e'er  was  sung 

By  poet,  priest,  or  sages ; 
A  song  which  through  all  heaven  has  rung, 

And  down  through  all  the  ages. 
How  can  we  turn  from  such  a  strain, 
Or  longer  wait  to  ease  our  pain  ? 
Oh  !  draw  us  closer,  Lord,  that  we 
May  find  our  sweetest  rest  in  Thee  ! 


84 


PR  A  YER. 


(Sob's    West. 

IT  is  the  evening  hour, 
And  thankfully, 
Father,  Thy  weary  child 

Has  come  to  Thee. 
I  lean  my  aching  head 

Upon  Thy  breast, 
And  there,  and  only  there, 

I  am  at  rest. 
Thou  knowest  all  my  life, 

Each  petty  sin ; 
Nothing  is  hid  from  Thee, 

Without,  within  ; 
All  that  I  have  or  am 

Is  wholly  Thine  ; 
So  is  my  soul  at  peace, 

For  Thou  art  mine. 
To-morrow's  dawn  may  find 

Me  here,  or  there  ; 
It  matters  little,  since  Thy  love 

Is  everywhere  ! 


*t 


J)  x  a  2 1  x . 

IF,  when  I  kneel  to  pray, 
With  eager  lips  I  say  : 
Lord,  give  me  all  the  things  that  I  desire — 
Health,  wealth,  fame,  friends,  brave  heart,  religious 

fire  ; 
The  power  to  sway  my  fellow-men  at  will, 
And  strength  for  mighty  works  to  banish  ill  " — 


TILE  LOOM  OF  LIFE.  85 


In  such  a  prayer  as  this 
The  blessing  I  must  miss. 

Or  if  I  only  dare 

To  raise  this  fainting  prayer  : 
14  Thou  scest,  Lord,  that  I  am  poor  and  weak, 
And  can  not  tell  what  things  I  ought  to  seek  ; 
I  therefore  do  not  ask  at  all,  but  still 
I  trust  Thy  bounty  all  my  wants  to  fill  " — 

My  lips  shall  thus  grow  dumb, 

The  blessing  shall  not  come. 

But  if  I  lowly  fall, 

And  thus  in  faith  I  call : 
u  Through  Christ,  O  Lord,  I  pray  Thee  give  to  me 
Not  what  I  would,  but  what  seems  best  to  Thee, 
Of  life,  of  health,  of  service,  and  of  strength, 
Until  to  Thy  full  joy  I  come  at  length  " — 

My  prayer  shall  then  avail, 

The  blessing  shall  not  fail. 


®l)e  Coom  of  £ife. 

ALL  day,  all  night  I  can  hear  the  jar 
Of  the  loom  of  life,  and  near  and  far 
It  thrills  with  its  deep  and  muffled  sound, 
As  the  tireless  wheels  go  always  round. 

Busily,  ceaselessly  goes  the  loom  ; 
In  the  light  of  day  and  the  midnight's  gloom, 
The  wheels  are  turning  early  and  late, 
And  the  woof  is  wound  in  the  warp  of  fate. 


S6  CORONA  T. 


Click,  clack  !  there's  a  thread  of  love  wove  in ; 
Click,  clack  !  another  of  wrong  and  sin  ; 
What  a  checkered  thing  will  this  life  be 
When  we  see  it  unrolled  in  eternity ! 

Time,  with  a  face  like  mystery, 

And  hands  as  busy  as  hands  can  be, 

Sits  at  the  loom  with  its  arm  outspread, 

To  catch  in  its  meshes  each  glancing  thread. 

When  shall  this  wonderful  web  be  done  ? 

In  a  thousand  years,  perhaps,  or  one  ; 

Or  to-morrow.    Who  knoweth  ?     Not  you  or  I, 

But  the  wheels  turn  on  and  the  shuttles  fly. 

Are  we  spinners  of  wool  for  this  life-wreb — say  ? 
Do  we  furnish  the  weaver  a  thread  each  day  ? 
It  were  better,  then,  O  my  friend,  to  spin 
A  beautiful  thread  than  a  thread  of  sin. 

Ah,  sad-eyed  weaver,  the  years  are  slow, 
But  each  one  is  nearer  the  end,  I  know  ; 
And  some  day  the  last  thread  shall  be  woven  in. 
God  grant  it  be  love  instead  of  sin. 


(tloxonat. 

ALL  day  the  wind,  with  bitter  breath,  had  with 
the  trees  been  plying  ; 
Had  rocked  and  tossed  them  to  and  fro,  and  filled 
the  air  with  sighing. 


coroxa  r.  87 


The  pallid  earth  was  cold  and  still,  the  heavens  were 

gray  and  lowering ; 
Between,  a  shifting  veil  of  snow,  in  fleecy  softness 

showering. 

It  was  a  day  that  seemed  to  moan  of  earth's  dull 

weight  of  anguish, 
Of  joys  that  die,  and  love  that  pales,  and  hopes  that 

slowly  languish  ; 
Of  all  that  carries  jarring  notes,  where  should  be 

sweetest  singing ; 
Of  discords  in  the  music  that  the  hand  of  God  set 

ringing. 

But  as  the  hidden  sun  went  down  the  snow-flakes 
ceased  descending, 

And  golden  beams  like  lances  flashed,  the  clouds  in 
shivers  rending. 

While  through  the  rifts  a  flood  of  light  burst  on  the 
tree-tops  hoary, 

And  set  the  white  earth  in  a  blaze  of  radiant  sunset- 
glory. 

Then,  in  the  golden  sheen,  the  load  of  weary  thoughts 

was  lightened — 
The  Hand  is  one  that  sent  earth's  pain,  and  darkest 

storm-clouds  brightened. 
He  lets  the  mists  obscure  His  sun,  and  lives  bedimmec 

with  sadness, 
But  in  His  own  mysterious  way  doth  crown  the  end 

with  gladness. 

We  know  not  how  discordant  notes  can  roll  to  Him 
in  sweetness, 


SS  FULL  MEASURE. 

" 

Nor  life's  poor  tangled,  broken  ends  be  gathered  in 

completeness. 
We  only  know  its  purpose  is  with  Him,  in  beauty 

breaking, 
And  on  eternal  shores  earth's  strains  are  sweetest 

echoes  waking. 


.full  IHcasnrc. 

11  Full  measure^  pressed  doivn  a?id  running  over.'' 

THOU  givest,  Lord,  full  measure, 
And  that  is  good  for  me  ; 
Thou  keepest  safe  each  treasure 

That  I  confide  to  Thee  : 
Safe  in  Thy  presence  hide  them  ; 
Safer  they  can  not  be. 

Thou  seest  my  heart's  dejection — 

Why  am  I  full  of  fears  ? 
I  think  of  Thy  rejection, 

And  stay  my  faithless  tears  ; 
For  the  very  wound  that  pains  me 

Thy  tender  touch  endears. 

Then  give  me,  Lord,  full  measure 
Of  Thy  grace  so  rich  and  free  ; 

Give,  Lord,  at  Thy  good  pleasure, 
I  leave  it  all  with  Thee, 

And  claim  each  promised  blessing 
As  mine,  by  Thy  decree. 


ENOUGH.  89 


(£  n  0  u  g  I) . 

I  AM  so  weak,  dear  Lord  !  I  can  not  stand 
One  moment  without  Thee  ; 
But  oh,  the  tenderness  of  Thy  enfolding, 
And  oh,  the  faithfulness  of  Thine  upholding, 
And  oh,  the  strength  of  Thy  right  hand  ! 
That  strength  is  enough  for  me. 

I  am  so  needy,  Lord  !  and  yet  I  know 
All  fullness  dwells  in  Thee  ; 
And  hour  by  hour  that  never-failing  treasure 
Supplies  and  fills  in  overflowing  measure 
My  last  and  greatest  need.     And  so 

Thy  grace  is  enough  for  me. 

It  is  so  sweet  to  trust  Thy  word  alone ! 
I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  unveiling  of  Thy  purpose,  or  the  shining 
Of  future  light  on  mysteries  untwining ; 
Thy  promise-roll  is  all  my  own — 

Thy  word  is  enough  for  me. 

There  were  strange  soul-depths,  restless,  vast,  and 

broad, 
Unfathomed  as  the  sea, 
An  infinite  craving  for  some  infinite  stilling  ; 
But  now  Thy  perfect  love  is  perfect  filling ! 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  my  Lord,  my  God, 

Thou,  Thou  art  enough  for  me ! 


90  THE  GLORY  TO  BE  REVEALED. 


"<jc  tljat  Cosctlj." 

u  LJ  E  that  findeth  his  life  shall  lose  it." 
J-  1.     O  words  as  strange  as  true  ! 

I  was  long  in  learning  the  less  on 
That  came  to  my  heart  from  you. 

"  He  that  loseth  his  life  shall  find  it." 
O  truth  I  was  quick  to  see, 
When  the  loss  I  had  counted  sorest 
Brought  wonderful  gain  to  me  ! 

One  must  find  in  the  valley  of  shadow 
The  light  of  the  glowing  skies, 

To  prove  how  the  world's  best  wisdom 
Is  folly  to  those  more  wise. 


®I)c  ©lorn  to  be  llcucalctr. 

Rom.  viii.  18. 

AH !  little  I'll  reck,  when  the  journey  is  o'er, 
Of  the  burdens  and  griefs  I  so  dreaded  and 
bore — 
They'll  all  be  forgot  as  I  enter  the  door. 

With  that  light  on  my  face,  and  that  song  in  my  cars, 
I  low  small  my  regard  for  past  troubles  and  fears, 
While  my  harp  wakes  the  music  I've  longed  for  for 
years ! 


OUR  J) AIL  V  BREAD,  01 


With  my  Lord  full  insight,  and  myself  without  stain.. 
How  blissful  the  notes,  how  triumphant  the  strain, 
As  my  tongue  sounds  His  praises  again  and  again  ! 

Then  why  should  I  tremble  when  tossed  on  the  wave  ? 
The  fiercest  of  storms  can  not  give  me  a  grave, 
While  Jesus  is  present  to  comfort  and  save. 

Though  raging  the  ocean,  the  skies  are  serene ; 
Though  clouds  darkly  gather,  the  sun  shines  between, 
And  bright  o'er  the  billows  "  The  City"  is  seen  ! 

Oh  !  weakest  of  cowards  !    Was  ever  a  saint 
So  feeble  as  I  am,  so  quick  of  complaint, — 
So  easily  downcast,  so  ready  to  faint  ? 

My  hope  is  in  God  !    Then,  my  heart,  be  at  rest ; 
The  waves  swell  in  wrath  ;  but  each  glittering  crest 
Is  bright  with  the  glory  encircling  His  breast. 

He  reigns!  And  He  loves  me!  No  longer  I'll  moan, 
Rememb'ring  the  music  and  light  round  the  throne- 
So  soon  to  be  mine  when  the  journey  is  done ! 


(Dnr  D>uln  Srcab. 

WE  pray  not,  Lord,  that  we  may  never  lack, 
Nor  that  Thy  bounty  may  our  garners  fill. 
Not  such  the  daily  prayer  that  echoes  back 
From  minster's  vault  to  hermit's  lonely  hill. 


92  THE   TIDE. 


What  hdst  Thou  taught  us  ?    "  Give  to  us  this  day 
Our  daily  bread."     We  need  not  ask  for  more. 

Another  dawn  may  find  us  far  away 

In  that  rich  land  where  hunger's  pains  are  o'er. 

And  dream  we  then  our  spirit's  food  to  store, 
And  gather  manna  for  the  coming  days  ? 

Or  trust  to  high  resolve,  that  never  more 
Our  feet  may  stumble  in  life's  rugged  ways  ? 

Or  fear  we,  falling  once,  no  more  to  stand  ? 

Or,  straying  now,  our  way  no  more  to  find  ? 
Shall  we  not  trust  that  bounteous,  tender  hand 

That  feeds  the  hungry,  and  that  leads  the  blind  ? 

New  every  morning  are  Thy  mercy's  dews  ; 

New  every  noontide  Thy  warm,  ripening  beams  ; 
New  every  evening  through  The  sunset  hues 

The  bright  reflection  of  Thy  glory  streams. 

Grant  us,  then,  Lord,  in  childlike  faith  to  live, 
Nor  care  o'ermuch  our  future  way  to  sec  ; 

Trusting  Thy  love  our  daily  bread  to  give 
For  soul  and  body,  till  we  rest  with  Thee. 


®  I)  c    2t  i  £>  c. 

JL  HE  tide  is  out ! 
Low  lie  the  dank  sea-weeds.     The  life  is  gone 
That  gave  them  strength  to  rise  ;  and  now  forlorn, 

Low  from  the  rocks  they  lie, 
Waiting  in  patience  for  the  morrow  morn, 


THE   TIDE.  93 


When  strong  with  life,  and  high, 
The  tide  will  then  come  in. 

The  tide  is  out. 
Far  out  at  sea  I  watch  the  dancing  waves 
Rising  to  meet  the  sea-gull,  as  she  laves 

In  them  her  weary  breast. 
Fearless  of  all,  the  elements  she  braves, 

Seeking  like  me  for  rest, — 

Her  tide  is  never  in. 

The  tide  is  out. 
Low,  lifeless  like  the  sea-weed,  now  I  lie, 
Wishing  that,  like  the  gull,  I  swift  could  fly 

From  'neath  the  burning  sun 
And  scorching  sands,  that  make  me  long  to  die, 
Fearing  that  I  am  one 
Whose  tide  will  ne'er  come  in. 

The  tide  is  out. 

Sinking  upon  the  sand,  with  bended  knee; 

The  cruel  sand  that  soon  will  bury  me, 

Unless  the  tide  will  soon  come  in ; 

With  humble  heart,  Father,  I  pray  to  Thee, 
Cleanse  me  from  grief  and  sin, 
And  make  my  tide  come  in. 


The  tide  is  in  ! 
Swift  surging  o'er  the  sand.     And  now  no  more 
Beside  the  barren,  desolate  sea-shore 

I  watch  the  sun-dried  rocks, 
And  think  my  life  like  theirs  is  thirsting,  sore, 

While  cooling  waters  mock — 

For  now  the  tide  is  in. 


94  THE   TIDE. 


The  tide  is  in. 
My  happy  life  seems  to  me  in  its  prime, 
Full  of  sweet  hope,  whose  fruit  will  come  in  time, 

Bringing  glad  rest  and  peace. 
But  it  was  not  alaways  so ;  there  was  a  time 

When  sorrows  would  not  cease ; 

But  now — the  tide  is  in. 

The  tide  is  in. 
With  grateful  heart  I  lift  mine  eyes  above, 
To  Him  who  sent  the  tide,  whose  name  is  Love ; 

Who  saw  me  tired  lie 
In  a  strange  land,  like  Noah's  weary  dove, 
Not  knowing  He  was  nigh 
Who  makes  the  tide  come  in. 

The  tide  is  in. 
And  lifting  my  drooped  head,  I  now  in  haste 
Go  forth  to  meet  my  work,  across  the  waste ; 

Eager  to  live  my  life 
As  Thou  hast  made  it,  who  gave  me  a  taste 

Of  weary  care  and  strife, 

Before  my  tide  came  in. 

The  tide  is  in. 
But,  ah  !  the  time  will  come,  I  know  full  well, 
That  it  will  leave  me ;  when,  I  can  not  tell ; 

But  when  that  time  shall  come, 
I  pray  that  Thou  my  strong  thoughts  will  quell, 

And  take  me  to  that  home 

Where  tides  are  always  in. 


NO  T  IN  M  YSELF.  95 


(Concealed. 

M  ] 'our  life  is  hid  with  Christ  in  God.'''* 

HIDDEN  with  Christ — as  the  busy  brain  which 
works  unseen 
From  the  hour  of  birth  to  the  day  of  death,  nor  rests 
between. 

Hidden  with  Christ — as  the  body  hides  the  beating 

heart, 
Feeling  the  strong,  full  pulsing  life  in  every  part. 

Hidden  with  Christ — as  the  sap  is  hid  in  the  grow- 
ing tree, 
Giving  to  every  leaf  and  bud  its  symmetry. 

Hidden  with  Christ — as  the  seed  is  hid  under  the 

sod ; 
So  with  the  lives  concealed  from  men  with  Christ 

in  God. 


ftot  in  IHnself. 

NOT  in  myself,  O  Lord  !  not  mine  the  good  ; 
I  can  not  do  the  holy  thing  I  would  ; 
My  strength,  my  hope,  my  life,  are  all  in  Thee ; 
Thou  hast  abundance  for  Thyself  and  me — 

Not  in  myself  I  strive. 

Not  in  mvself,  for  I  have  tried  alone 

To  tread  the  pathway  that  was  once  Thine  own  ; 


o6      IX  THE  FA  TURK'S  KEEPING. 


And  I  have  fallen,  and  lain  in  pain  and  grief, 
And  found  that  in  myself  was  no  relief — 

Not  by  myself  I  walk. 

Not  in  myself ;  for  I  am  poor  and  weak ; 
But  oh  !  what  strength  is  gained  by  all  who  seek  . 
Now,  when  I  stumble,  struck  by  quick  alarms, 
Around  me  close  Thine  everlasting  arms — 

Not  in  myself  I  stand. 

Not  in  myself,  for  brain  and  heart  would  fail 
Before  life's  terrors,  since  they  both  are  frail ; 
E'en  solitude  would  make  my  reason  flee, 
If  silence  were  not  musical  with  Thee — 

Not  in  myself  I  trust. 

How  in  himself  should  any  mortal  trust, 
Who  can  not  keep  his  living  frame  from  dust ; 
Who  can  not  conquer  death,  or  'scape  disease, 
Or  work  out  ends,  or  gain  one  hour  of  ease  ? 

Not  in  myself  is  power. 

Not  to  myself  shall  I,  ungrateful,  cling; 
Lord,  to  Thy  feet  my  wearied  soul  I  bring ! 
Here  is  my  hand — oh,  clasp  it,  Lord,  in  Thine, 
And  lo  !  what  power,  what  hope,  what  joy,  are  mine 

Not  in  myself — in  Thee. 


1 


3n  tlje  father's  Keeping. 

"My  times  are  in  Thy  hand.  " 

AM  not  strong,  my  Father, 
And  the  battle  must  be  fought  ; 


IN   THE  FATHER'S  KEEPING,  97 


The  foes  are  round  about  me, 
And  the  hours  with  peril  fraught. 

Even  my  best  endeavor 
Is  weakness,  and  must  fail : 

It  needs  a  Power  Almighty 
In  the  contest  to  prevail. 

I  am  not  wise,  my  Father, 

I  can  not  see  the  way  ; 
My  spirit  walks  in  darkness 

While  longing  for  the  day  ; 
And  there  is  work  before  me, 

Which  my  feeble  hands  must  do, 
But  I  need  a  higher  wisdom 

Than  my  own  to  help  me  through. 

I  am  not  brave,  my  Father, 

Filled  with  a  hindering  fear ; 
I  start  away  in  terror 

When  the  shaded  scenes  appear ; 
Yet  have  I  need  of  courage 

To  fight  and  to  endure 
Till  the  conflict  shall  be  ended, 

And  the  victory  is  sure. 

I  am  not  good,  my  Father — 

Sin  leaves  its  stains  on  all ; 
The  world  is  full  of  evil, 

And  I  have  felt  its  thrall  ■ 
Yet  have  I  need  of  goodness 

And  purity  and  grace, 
And  I  fain  would  have  the  beauty 

That  shines  in  Jesus'  face. 


gS  IN  THE  FA  Til  EI?  S  KEEPING. 


But  what  I  want,  my  Father, 

Can  all  be  found  in  Thee ; 
My  times  are  in  Thy  keeping, 

And  naught  can  injure  mc ; 
Thou  art  the  Good  and  Holy, 

The  Strong,  the  Brave,  the  Wise, 
And  I,  in  all  my  weakness, 

Lift  unto  Thee  mine  eyes. 

Whatever  is  before  me 

Of  fighting  or  of  pain, 
Of  ways  that  are  intricate, 

Of  labor  without  gain, 
Of  pleasure  or  of  sorrow, 

'Tis  not  for  me  to  tell, 
But  all  is  of  Thy  sending, 

And  all  Thou  do'st  is  well. 

Oh,  bless  Thee  !  oh,  my  Father ! 

For  all  Thou  art  to  me  ; 
For  strength  and  light  and  courage 

Which  I  have  found  in  Thee ; 
I  bless  Thee  for  Thy  mercy, 

For  the  lights  that  round  me  shine* 
And  that  because  I  know  Thee, 

My  will  is  lost  in  Thine. 

Oh,  love  me  still,  my  Father, 

Lay  on  me  Thy  commands, 
And  be  my  life  forever 

In  the  keeping  of  Thy  hands ; 
No  richer,  greater  blessing 

Hast  ever  Thou  to  give  : 
Oh,  Father,  guide  and  bless  me 

Until  with  Thee  I  live! 


TRUST.  99 


Srnst. 

WE  would  not  always  come  to  God 
With  sorrow  on  our  lips ; 
We  would  not  feel  as  though  the  sun 
Were  always  in  eclipse. 

For  life  is  very  beautiful, 
The  joy  outweighs  the  sorrow  ; 

And  the  sweet  sun  that  smiles  to-day 
Will  smile  again  to-morrow. 

What  if  the  toil  be  hard  and  long, 
And  sometimes  life  seem  dreary ; 

They  never  know  how  sweet  is  rest, 
Who  never  have  been  weaiy. 

God  sends  us  everything  in  love, 
But  we,  in  grief  and  blindness, 

Cast  back  His  mercies  in  His  face, 
And  call  that  love  unkindness. 

We  will  not  see  that  God  is  good, 
And  then  we  mourn  in  anguish ; 

We  shut  our  eyes  upon  the  light, 
And  then  in  darkness  languish. 

We  can  not  ofttimes  understand, 

Hut  let  us  trust  the  rather; 
We  know  that  naught  but  good  can  come 

From  the  dear  Heavenly  Father. 


100  AFTER   THE  STORM. 


&ftcr  il)c  Gtorm. 

AFTER  the  storm,  a  calm  ; 
After  the  bruise,  a  balm  ; 
For  the  ill  brings  good,  in  the  Lord's  own  time, 
And  the  sigh  becomes  the  psalm. 

After  the  drought,  the  dew ; 
After  the  cloud,  the  blue ; 
For  the  sky  will  smile  in  the  sun's  good  time, 
And  the  earth  grow  glad  and  new. 

Bloom  is  the  heir  of  blight, 
Dawn  is  the  child  of  night, 
And  the  rolling  change  of  the  busy  world 
Bids  the  wrong  yield  back  the  right. 

Under  the  fount  of  ill 
Many  a  cup  doth  fill, 
And  the  patient  lip,  though  it  drinketh  oft, 
Finds  only  the  bitter  still. 

Truth  seemeth  oft  to  sleep, 
Blessings  so  slow  to  reap, 
Till  the  hours  of  waiting  are  weary  to  bear, 
And  the  courage  is  hard  to  keep  ! 

Nevertheless,  I  know 
Out  of  the  dark  must  grow 
Sooner  or  later,  whatever  is  fair, 

Since  the  heavens  have  willed  it  so. 


LOST  TREASURES.  ioi 


£ost  ©treasures. 

WHERE  art  thou  gone,  O  my  believing  heart, 
That  questioned  not  thy  Maker's  righteous 
will ; 
But  bowed  thine  own  unto  His  wise  behest, 
Confessed  that  He  was  God,  and  then  was  still  ? 

And  where  art  thou,  O  patient  heart  of  mine, 
That  bore  life's  ills  as  from  the  hand  of  Love, 

Content  to  tread  the  path,  however  dark, 
So  it  but  led  me  to  a  home  above  ? 

And  thou,  sweet  sympathy,  that  dwelt  with  me, 
Why  hast  thou  from  my  cheerless  bosom  ilown, 

Which  once  responsive  throbbed  to  pity's  call, 
And  grieved  for  others'  woes  more  than  thine  own  ? 

Where  art  thou  gone,  my  happy,  hopeful  heart, 
That  trod  with  lightest  step  earth's  thorny  way, 

And  looked  exultant,  through  the  darkest  night, 
For  the  bright  dawning  of  the  coming  day  ? 

And  thou,  sweet  Charity,  that  thought  no  ill, 
But  covered  o'er  with  love  the  darkest  blot, 

Most  dear  and  valued  of  my  treasures  all, 
I  search  for  thee,  alas !  and  find  thee  not. 

Where  art  thou  gone,  my  most  forgiving  heart, 
That  counted  not  thy  brother's  sins  each  day, 

But  with  a  ready  love  forgave  them  all, 

Ere  for  the  boon  his  trembling  lips  could  pray? 


102      "REMEMBERED  THEY  I/IS  WORD." 


Thou  art  gone  with  the  rest,  the  last  of  all 
I  yielded  up  upon  the  hard-fought  field, 

Where  arms  lay  broken,  and  from  helpless  hands, 
Like  worthless  weapons,  dropped  the  spear  and 
shield. 

Come  back  to  me,  my  treasures,  from  the  dust 
Where  thou  art  trampled  'neath  the  victor's  tread, 

As  spoil  unheeded  in  the  conqueror's  path 
Marks  out  the  way  his  fiery  legions  sped. 

Come  back  to  me,  my  treasures,  from  the  depths 
Where  thou  art  wrecked,  a  precious  argosy, 

More  costly  far  than  freights  of  Ophir  gold, 
Or  'broidered  robes  of  richest  Tyrian  dye. 

I  open  wide  the  portals  of  my  heart, 
Return  to  me,  my  treasures,  one  and  all, 

And  gild  with  radiance  bright  the  gathering  shades, 
When,  at  the  last,  the  eventide  shall  fall. 


a 


ffiljcn  ficmembcrcb  (lI)cij  f)is  iDovb." 

ONE  night  upon  a  couch  of  pain, 
When  Jesus  watched  with  me, 
I  saw  my  life  go  by  again, 

New-starred  for  memory. 
Some  blessings  I  had  dimmed  with  tears 
Brightened  once  more  that  path  of  years. 

As  smiles  we  pass  unheeded  by 
Sometimes  seem  newly  given, 


"REMEMBERED  THEY  IMS  WORD."      I0j 


Relighting  all  the  wintry  sky, 

That  wafts  a  soul  from  heaven  ; 
So  all  my  life  seemed  flooded  o'er 
With  joy  I  might  have  had  before. 

Yet  I  had  known  Thee,  oh,  my  Lord ! 

E'er  since,  with  sins  forgiven, 
I  drank  Thy  sweet,  life-giving  Word, 

So  near  the  gates  of  heaven : 
Yet  missed  till  now  some  lessons  sweet, 
That  bring  me  here  to  Thy  dear  feet. 

To  find  that  care  and  grief  and  pain 

Are  messengers  of  Thine  ; 
That  Thou  canst  walk  this  earth  again 

In  this  poor  life  of  mine  ; 
And  there's  no  path  Thy  feet  have  gone, 
But  has  its  cross  before  its  crown. 

Ah,  could  I  think  mid  song  and  flowers 

To  pass  my  happy  years  ? 
To  shun  Thee  when  the  tempest  lowers, 

Or  hide  me  from  Thy  tears  ? 
Forgive  me,  Lord :  where  Thou  hast  gone, 
My  humble  heart  would  follow  on. 

Bearing  each  cross  for  Thy  dear  sake, 

Oh,  teach  me,  Lord,  to  come 
By  any  path  Thy  love  may  take, 

Since  all  must  lead  me  home. 
Thankful  that  Thou  wilt  take  such  care 
To  lure  Thy  wandering  children  there. 


104  WIT  A  T  PLEASES  GOD. 


toijat  pleases  (Soir. 

WHAT  God  decrees,  child  of  His  love, 
Take  patiently,  though  it  may  prove 
The  storm  that  wrecks  thy  treasure  here  ; 
Be  comforted  !    Thou  needst  not  fear 
What  pleases  God. 

The  wisest  will  is  God's  own  will ; 
Rest  on  this  anchor,  and  be  still ; 
For  peace  around  thy  path  shall  flow, 
When  only  wishing  here  below 
What  pleases  God. 

The  truest  heart  is  God's  own  heart, 
Which  bids  thy  grief  and  fear  depart ; 
Protecting,  guiding,  day  and  night, 
The  soul  that  welcomes  here  aright 
What  pleases  God. 

Oh,  could  I  sing  as  I  desire, 
My  grateful  voice  should  never  tire 
To  tell  the  wondrous  love  and  power 
Thus  working  out,  from  hour  to  hour, 
What  pleases  God. 

The  King  of  kings,  He  rules  on  earth 
He  sends  us  sorrow  here,  or  mirth  ; 
He  bears  the  ocean  in  His  hand ; 
And  thus  we  meet,  on  sea  or  land, 
What  pleases  God. 


A    PRAYER.  105 


His  Church  on  earth  He  dearly  loves, 
Although  He  oft  its  sin  reproves ; 
The  rod  itself  His  love  can  speak — 
He  smites  till  we  return  to  seek 
What  pleases  God. 

Then  let  the  crowd  around  thee  seize 
The  joys  that  for  a  season  please, 
But  willingly  their  paths  forsake, 
And  for  thy  blessed  portion  take 
What  pleases  God. 

Thy  heritage  is  safe  in  Heaven ; 
There  shall  the  crown  of  joy  be  given  ; 
There  shalt  thou  hear  and  see  and  know 
As  thou  couldst  never  here  below, 
What  pleases  God. 


01  Praiur. 

LEAD  me,  O  Lord, 
In  still,  safe  places ; 
Let  mine  eyes  meet 

Sweet,  earnest  faces ; 
Far  from  the  scenes 

Of  worldly  fashion, 
Of  faithless  care 
And  noisy  passion. 

Keep  me,  O  Lord, 
Trustful  and  lowly ; 

Fill  me  with  love 
Tender  and  holy. 


I  o6    "  WIIA  T  IV I L  T  TIIO  U  HA  VE  ME  DO  ?  " 


Forget  not  my  need 
Of  Thy  Fatherly  pity 

Till  I  have  gained 
The  heavenly  city. 


"tDljat  wilt  a  I)  ou  I)iuic  SXt  Do?11 

OH,  for  a  vision  and  a  voice  to  lead  me, 
To  show  me  plainly  where  my  work  should  lie 
Go  where  I  may,  fresh  hindrances  impede  me, 
Vain  and  unanswered  seems  my  earnest  cry. 

Hush  !  unbelieving  one,  but  for  thy  blindness, 
But  for  thine  own  impatience  and  self-will, 

Thou  wouldst  see  thy  Master's  loving-kindness, 
Who  by  those  hindrances  is  leading  still. 

He  who  of  old  through  Phrygia  and  Galatia, 
Led  the  Apostle  Paul  and  blessed  him  there, 

If  He  forbid  to  preach  the  Word  in  Asia, 
Must  have  prepared  for  thee  a  work  elsewhere. 

Courage  and  Patience  !     Is  the  Master  sleeping? 

Has  He  no  plan,  no  purposes  of  love  ? 
What  though  awhile  His  counsel  He  is  keeping, 

It  is  maturing  in  the  world  above. 

Wait  on  the  Lord,  in  His  right  hand  be  hidden, 
And  go  not  forth  uncalled  to  strive  alone  ; 

Shun  like  a  sin  the  tempting  work  forbidden, 
God's  lo7>e  for  souls  be  sure  exceeds  thine  own. 


"  WHA  T  WIL  T  TIIO U  II. I  I rE  ME  DO?"    107 


None  are  good  works  for  thee,  but  works  appointed  ; 

Ask  to  be  filled  with  knowledge  of  His  will, 
Cost  what  it  may;  why  live  a  life  disjointed? 

One  work  throughout,  God's  pleasure  to  fulfill. 

Dut  if  indeed  some  special  work  awaits  thee, 
Canst  thou  allord  this  waiting-time  to  lose? 

By  each  successive  task  God  educates  thee, — 
What  if  the  iron  be  too  blunt  to  use  ? 

Oh,  thou  unpolished  shaft,  why  leave  the  quiver? 

Oh,  thou  blunt  ax,  what  forest  canst  thou  hew  ? 
Unsharpened  sword,  canst  thou  the  oppressed  de- 
liver? 

Go  back  to  thine  own  maker's  forge  anew. 

Submit  thyself  to  God  for  preparation, 

Seek  not  to  teach  thy  Master  and  thy  Lord, 

Call  it  not  zeal ;  it  is  a  base  temptation, — 
Satan  is  pleased  when  man  dictates  to  God. 

Down  with  thy  pride  !    With  holy  vengeance  tram- 
ple 

On  each  self-flattering  fancy  that  appears  ; 
Did  not  the  Lord  Himself,  for  our  example, 

Lie  hid  in  Nazareth  for  thirty  years? 

Wait  the  appointed  time  for  work  appointed, 
Lest  by  the  tempter's  wiles  thou  be  ensnared  ; 

Fresh  be  the  oil  wherewith  thou  art  anointed, — 
Let  God  prepare  thee  for  the  work  prepared. 


Io8  REST. 


Rest. 

rVEST!    Rest! 
O  death,  I  reach  my  hands  to  thee, 

Sweet  angel  of  release  ! 
Pass  but  thy  wand  across  my  brow, 

T  will  bring  me  rest  and  peace." 

Alas ! 
Thus  once  in  weak  despair  I  cried, 

So  fierce  the  battle  pressed, 
Fain  doff  my  armor,  and  lie  down 

To  silent,  dreamless  rest. 

In  vain  ! 
Death  heeded  not  my  outstretched  hands, 

Nor  heard  my  frenzied  call ; 
But  One  whose  tender  pitying  love 

Had  known,  and  felt  it  all — 

All,  all,— 
The  wild  unrest,  the  ceaseless  strife, 

The  cruel  ache  and  smart — 
Came,  mother-like,  drew  my  tired  head 

Close  to  His  loving  heart. 

And  now 
In  heavenly  arms  at  rest  I  lie, 

Content,  and  glad,  and  still — 
O  joy  to  know  at  last  that  rest 

Is  to  accept  His  will ! 


THE  FOUR  AXCUORS.  109 


His  will! 
How  can  I  question  more,  or  yield 

To  doubts  and  fears  again  ? 
The  rest  I  thought  I  ne'er  could  reach 

Is  mine  !  O  sons  of  men  ! 


£l)c  font  QVncljors. 

44  The  day  is    Thine,  the   night  also  is    Thine." — Psa.   lxxiv.    16. 
"The  darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alike  to   Thee."— Tsa.  exxxix. 
14  They  cast  four  anchors  out  of  the  stern,  and  wished  for  the  day" 
— Acrs  xxvii.  29. 

THE  night  is  dark,  but  God,  my  God, 
Is  here  and  in  command  ; 
And  sure  am  I,  when  morning  breaks, 

I  shall  be  "  at  the  land  ;" 
And  since  I  know  the  darkness  is 

To  Him  as  sunniest  day, 
I'll  cast  the  anchor  Patience  out, 
And  wish — but  wait — for  day. 

Fierce  drives  the  storm,  but  winds  and  waves 

Within  His  hand  are  held, 
And,  trusting  in  Omnipotence, 

My  fears  are  sweetly  quelled. 
If  wrecked,  I'm  in  His  faithful  grasp: 

I'll  trust  Him,  though  He  slay; 
So,  letting  go  the  anchor  Faith, 

I'll  wish — but  wait — for  day. 

Still  seem  the  moments  dreary,  long  ? 
I  rest  upon  the  Lord  ; 


no  "AFTEK." 

I  muse  on  His  "  eternal  years/' 
And  feast  upon  His  Word  : 

His  promises,  so  rich  and  great, 
Are  my  support  and  stay  ; 

I'll  drop  the  anchor  Hope  ahead, 
And  wish — but  wait — for  day. 

O  wisdom  infinite  !  O  light 

And  love  supreme,  divine  ! 
How  can  I  feel  one  fluttering  doubt, 

In  hands  so  dear  as  Thine  ? 
I'll  lean  on  Thee,  my  best  beloved, 

My  heart  on  Thy  heart  lay  ; 
And  casting  out  the  anchor  Lovey 

I'll  wish — and  wait — for  day. 


"after." 

AFTER  the  shower,  the  tranquil  sun  ; 
Silver  stars  when  the  day  is  done. 
After  the  snow,  the  emerald  leaves  ; 
After  the  harvest,  golden  sheaves. 
After  the  clouds,  the  violet  sky  ; 
Quiet  woods,  when  the  wind  goes  by. 
After  the  tempest,  the  lull  of  waxes  ; 
After  the  battle,  peaceful  graves. 
After  the  knell,  the  wedding  bells, 
Joyful  greetings  from  sad  farewells. 
After  the  bud,  the  radiant  rose  ; 
After  our  weeping,  sweet  repose. 
After  the  burden,  the  blissful  meed  ; 
After  the  furrow,  the  waking  seed. 


«. 


ax  open  door:'  III 


After  the  flight,  the  downy  nest; 
Over  the  shadowy  river — rest. 


4i  Ccljolb,  3  fyavc  Get  Before  Sljec  an  (Dpen 

Door.11 

THE  mistakes  of  my  life  are  many, 
The  sins  of  my  heart  are  more ; 
And  I  scarce  can  see  for  weeping, 
But  I  knock  at  the  open  door. 

I  know  I  am  weak  and  sinful, 
It  comes  to  me  more  and  more  ; 

But  when  the  dear  Saviour  shall  bid  mc, 
I'll  enter  that  open  door. 

I  am  lowest  of  those  wrho  love  Him, 
I  am  weakest  of  those  who  pray, 

But  I  come  as  He  has  bidden, 
And  He  will  not  say  me  nay. 

My  mistakes  His  free  grace  will  cover, 

My  sins  He  will  wash  away ; 
And  the  feet  that  shrink  and  falter 

Shall  walk  through  the  gate  of  day. 

The  mistakes  of  my  life  are  many, 

And  my  spirit  is  sick  with  sin; 
And  I  scarce  can  see  with  weeping, 

But  the  Saviour  will  let  me  in. 


I J  2  PETITIOX. 


I  know  I  a.vi  weak  and  sinful; 

It  comes  to  me  more  and  more  ; 
But  when  the  dear  Saviour  shall  bid  me, 

I'll  enter  that  open  door. 


Petition. 

MORE  holiness  give  me, 
More  sweetness  within, 
More  patience  in  suffering, 

More  sorrow  for  sin  ; 
More  faith  in  my  Saviour, 
More  sense  of  His  care ; 
More  joy  in  His  service, 
More  purpose  in  prayer. 

More  gratitude  give  me, 

More  trust  in  the  Lord  ; 
More  pride  in  His  glory, 

More  hope  in  His  word  ; 
More  tears  for  His  sorrows, 

More  pains  at  His  grief; 
More  meekness  in  trial, 

More  praise  for  relief. 

More  purity  give  me, 

More  strength  to  o'ercome  ; 
More  freedom  from  earth-stains, 

More  longing  for  home. 
More  fit  for  the  kingdom, 

More  used  would  I  be  : 
More  blessed  and  holy, 

More.  Saviour,  like  Thee, 


Til  A  T  I  MA  Y  KNO  \V  HIM.  1 13 


(Tljat  3  filar*  Know  ijim. 

M  I  seem  to  know  more  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ   than  of  the  most 
intimate  friend  I  have  on  earth?* — McCheyne. 

LORD,  let  me  talk  with  Thee  of  all  I  do, 
All  that  I  care  for,  all  I  wish  for  too. 
Lord,  let  me  prove  Thy  sympathy,  Thy  power, 
Thy  loving  oversight  from  hour  to  hour ! 

When  I  need  counsel,  let  me  ask  of  Thee  : 

Whatever  my  perplexity  may  be, 

It  can  not  be  too  trivial  to  bring 

To  One  who  marks  the  sparrow's  drooping  wing ; 

Nor  too  terrestrial,  since  Thou  hast  said 

The  very  hairs  are  numbered  on  our  head. 

'Tis  through  such  loopholes  that  the  foe  takes  aim, 

And  sparks  unheeded,  burst  into  a  flame. 

Do  money  troubles  press  ?     Thou  canst  resolve 
The  doubts  or  dangers  such  concerns  involve. 
Are  those  I  love  the  cause  of  anxious  care  ? 
Thou  canst  unbind  the  burdens  they  may  bear. 

Before  the  mysteries  of  Thy  Word  or  Will, 
Thy  Voice  can  gently  bid  my  heart  be  still ; 
Since  all  that  now  is  hard  to  understand, 
Shall  be  unraveled  in  yon  heavenly  land. 

Or  do  I  mourn  the  oft-besetting  sin, 
The  tempter's  wiles,  that  mar  the  peace  within  ? 
Present  Thyself,  Lord,  as  the  absolving  Priest, 
To  whom  confessing,  I  go  forth  released. 


114  /  SO  UGH  T  THEE. 


Do  weakness,  weariness,  disease,  invade 
This  earthly  house,  which  Thou  Thyself  hast  made  ? 
Thou  only,  Lord,  canst  touch  the  hidden  spring 
Of  mischief,  and  attune  the  jarring  string. 

Would  I  be  taught  what  Thou  wouldst  have  me  give. 
The  needs  of  those  less  favored  to  relieve  ? 
Thou  canst  so  guide  my  hand  that  I  shall  be 
A  liberal,  "cheerful  giver,"  Lord,  like  Thee. 

• 

Of  my  life's  mission  do  I  stand  in  doubt, 
Thou  knowest,  and  canst  clearly  point  it  out. 
Whither  I  go,  do  Thou  Thyself  decide, 
And  choose  the  friends  and  servants  at  my  side. 

The  books  I  read  I  would  submit  to  Thee, 
Let  them  refresh,  instruct,  and  solace  me. 
I  would  converse  with  Thee  from  day  to  day, 
With  heart  intent  on  what  Thou  hast  to  say : 

And  through  my  pilgrim  walk,  whate'er  befall, 

Consult  with  Thee,  O  Lord,  about  it  all. 

Since  Thou  art  willing  thus  to  condescend 

To  be  my  intimate,  familiar  friend, 

Oh,  let  me  to  the  great  occasion  rise, 

And  count  Thy  friendship  life's  most  glorious  prize  ! 


3  GongI)t  ttljee. 

I  SOUGHT  Thee  when  my  heart  was  low ; 
I  found  Thee,  and  my  hopes  revived, 
And  all  the  world  from  me  shall  know 
What  comfort  I  from  Thee  derived  ; 


A  CRY  OF  THE  HEART.  1 15 


All  that  I  needed,  all  and  more, 
Thy  presence  did  to  me  restore. 

I  laid  my  burden  at  Thy  feet, 
My  head  upon  Thy  tender  breast ; 

Thy  name  of  love  I  did  repeat, 

And  Thou  didst  understand  the  rest 

All  that  I  needed,  all  and  more, 

Thy  presence  did  to  me  restore. 

I  wept  the  sorrow  of  my  heart, 

And  Thou  mine  eyes  didst  gently  dry ; 
I  sighed  through  fear  that  we  must  part, 

But  Thou  didst  whisper,  "  Ever  nigh ; ' 
It  was  enough,  I  asked  no  more, 
Thy  voice  did  all  my  life  restore. 

And  now  that  life  to  Thee  I'll  give 
With  calmer  trust  and  brighter  joy  ; 

In  Thee,  and  for  Thee,  I  will  live, 
To  do  Thy  will  my  sole  employ ; 

Thus  most  secure  to  part  no  more 

With  that  sweet  joy  Thou  didst  restore. 


&  QTru  of  tijc  fjecirt. 

OH,  for  a  mind  more  clear  to  see, 
A  hand  to  work  more  earnestly 
For  every  good  intent ! 
Oh,  for  a  Peter's  fiery  zeal, 
His  conscience  always  quick  to  feel, 
And  instant  to  repent ! 


Ii6  A   CRY  OF  THE  HEART. 


Oh,  for  a  faith  more  strong  and  true 

Than  that  which  doubting  Thomas  knew, — 

A  faith  assured  and  clear; 
To  know  that  He  who  for  us  died, 
Rejected,  scorned,  and  crucified, 

Lives,  and  is  with  us  here. 

Oh,  for  the  blessing  shed  upon 
That  humble,  loving,  sinful  one, 

Who,  when  He  sat  at  meat, 
With  precious  store  of  ointment  came ; 
Hid  from  her  Lord  her  face  for  shame, 

And  laid  it  on  His  feet. 

Oh,  for  that  look  of  pity  seen 
By  her,  the  guilty  Magdalene, 

Who  stood  her  Judge  before ; 
And  listening,  for  her  comfort  heard 
The  tender,  sweet,  forgiving  word  : 

Go  thou,  and  sin  no  more  ! 

Oh,  to  have  stood  with  James  and  John, 
Where  brightness  round  the  Saviour  shone, 

Whiter  than  light  of  day; 
When  by  the  voice  and  cloud  dismayed, 
They  fell  upon  the  ground  afraid, 

And  wist  not  what  to  say. 

Oh,  to  have  been  the  favored  guest 
That  leaned  at  supper  on  His  breast, 

And  heard  his  dear  Lord  say : 
He  who  shall  testify  of  Me, 
7  he  Comforter,  ye  may  not  see 

Except  I  go  away. 


FAITHFUL  LOVE.  117 


Oh,  for  the  honor  won  by  her, 
Who  early  to  the  sepulcher 

Hastened  in  tearful  gloom  ; 
To  whom  he  gave  His  high  behest, 
To  tell  to  Peter  and  the  rest, 

Their  Lord  had  left  the  tomb. 

Oh,  for  the  vision  that  sufficed 
That  first  blest  martyr  after  Christ, 

And  gave  a  peace  so  deep, 
That  while  he  saw  with  raptured  eyes 
Jesus  with  God  in  Paradise, 

He,  praying,  fell  asleep. 

But  if  such  heights  I  may  not  gain, 
O  Thou,  to  whom  no  soul  in  vain 

Or  cries,  or  makes  complaints  ; 
This  only  favor  grant  to  me, — 
That  I,  of  sinners  chief,  may  be 

The  least  of  all  Thy  saints  ! 


iTaitljftll  £0VC. 

I  KNELT  before  my  Father's  throne  with  sins  and 
cares  opprest, 
And  asked  Him  to  remove  the  load  and  give  my 

spirit  rest ; 
For  why  should  I  be  troubled,when  it  is  so  plain  to  me, 
That  Christ  has  borne  my  sorrows,  and  that  He  loves 
me  faithfully? 

He  loves  me  faithfully. 
I  know  it — oh,  I  know  it ;  for  He  has  died  for  me. 


Il8  FAITHFUL  LOVE, 


And  when  I  prayed  my  heart  was  full,  but  the  half 

I  didn't  tell, 
For  why  should  I  be  talking  when  He  knows  it  all 

so  well  ? 
The  burdened  heart,  the  sorrowing  sigh,  the  broken 

sob,  the  uplifted  eye, — 
He  sees,  He  hears,  He  knows  it  all ;  for  He  loves  me 

faithfully. 

He  loves  me  faithfully. 
He  knows  it — oh,  He  knows  it  all,  without  one  word 

from  me. 

The  fear  that  some  beloved  one  may  fail  to  be  for- 
given, 

That  I  may  walk  the  golden  streets  and  miss  that 
one  in  heaven, — 

I  thought  of  how  "  He  knoweth  us,"  and,  from  His 
throne  on  high, 

Rememb'ring  that  we  are  but  dust,  looks  down  with 
pitying  eye. 

For  He  loves  me  faithfully. 

I  know  it — oh,  I  know  it,  and  He  will  hear  my  cry. 

I'm  waiting  for  an  answer,  while  humbly  I  adore 

Him  ; 
I'm  list'ning  for  the  still  small  voice,  and  softly  walk 

before  Him ; 
And  for  a  light  between  the  clouds,  I'm  looking 

wistfully. 
Oh,  lead  my  roving  heart,  dear  Lord,  to  love  Thee 

faithfully. 

To  love  Thee  faithfully. 
Thou  knowest,  O  Thou  knowest,  I  would  love  Thee 

faithfully. 


WI1A  T  IS  M  Y  WORK  TO- DA  Y?  no 


illljat  is  iUn  toork  £0-D™? 

TO  search  for  truth  and  wisdom, 
To  live  for  Christ  alone  ; 
To  run  my  race  unburdened, 

The  goal  my  Saviour's  throne ; 
To  view  by  faith  the  promise, 
While  earthly  hopes  decay  ; 
To  serve  the  Lord  with  gladness — 
This  is  my  work  to-day. 

To  shun  the  world's  allurements, 

To  bear  my  cross  therein, 
To  turn  from  all  temptation, 

To  conquer  every  sin  ; 
To  linger,  calm  and  patient, 

Where  duty  bids  me  stay, 
To  go  where  God  may  lead  me — 

This  is  my  work  to-day. 

To  keep  my  troth  unshaken, 

Though  others  may  deceive ; 
To  give  with  willing  pleasure, 

Or  still  with  joy  receive ; 
To  bring  the  mourner  comfort, 

To  wipe  sad  tears  away; 
To  help  the  timid  doubter — 

This  is  my  work  to-day. 

To  bear  another's  weakness, 
To  soothe  another's  pain  ; 

To  cheer  the  heart  repentant, 
And  to  forgive  again  ; 


120  AX  HUMBLE  SPIRIT. 


To  commune  with  the  thoughtful, 
To  guide  the  young  and  gay  ; 

To  profit  all  in  season — 
This  is  my  work  to-day. 

I  think  not  of  to-morrow, 

Its  trial  or  its  task  ; 
But  still,  with  childlike  spirit, 

For  present  mercies  ask. 
With  each  returning  morning, 

I  cast  old  things  away ; 
Life's  journey  lies  before  me — 

My  prayer  is  for  to-day. 


&n  fjnmblc  Spirit. 

I  KNOW  my  God  He  hath  no  need  of  me, 
Nor  any  instrument  to  work  His  will ; 
Wherefore  I  think  I  should  more  grateful  be, 
That  He  doth  use  me  still. 

I  know  full  well  the  little  I  can  do 

Is  but  as  naught  in  His  most  mighty  plan ; 

Wherefore  I  must  work  sore,  and  all  life  through 
Do  all  the  good  I  can. 

I  know  that  time  itself  is  but  a  fleck 
On  the  wide  waves  of  His  eternity ; 

Wherefore  I  can  no  moment  lose,  but  reck 
That  I  may  constant  be. 


THE  BOA  TMAfiTS  LESSON.  1 2 1 


£l)c  Coalman's  £csson. 

THE  little  boat  went  gliding  on, 
And  then  the  winds  arose ; 
The  twilight  faded  on  the  hills, 

The  day  began  to  close. 
The  boatman  spoke,  as  much  I  feared 
Amid  the  flashing  foam  : 
"  Oh,  master,  give  it  up  to  me, 
And  I  will  row  you  home  ! " 

So  I  sat  still  in  helplessness, 

Though  numbed  in  every  limb, 
Now  up,  now  down  among  the  waves, 

And  gave  it  up  to  him. 
And  skillfully  he  turned  the  prow, 

And  plied  the  bending  oar, 
Until,  just  as  the  moon  arose, 

He  brought  me  safe  to  shore. 

And  evermore  that  boatman's  words, 

Amid  the  winds  severe, 
As  up  and  down  the  world  I  walk, 

Are  ringing  in  my  ear : 
In  sun,  in  rain,  in  dark,  in  light, 

Where'er  my  footsteps  roam  : 
"  Oh,  master,  give  it  up  to  me, 

And  I  will  row  you  home  ! " 

'Tis  thus  with  Him  who  came  to  save 

The  ruined  sons  of  men  ; 
We  are  to  trust  His  power,  as  I 

Believed  the  boatman  then. 


i  2  2  THE  A  BIDING  ONE. 


And  though  the  winds  may  smite  the  waves, 

And  angry  surges  foam, 
The  loving  Christ  of  Nazareth 

Will  guide  His  people  home. 


£I)e  QVbibing  CDnc. 

SOME  hearts  are  like  a  quiet  village  street, 
Few  and  well  known  the  passers  to  and  fro  , 
Some  like  a  busy  city's  market-place, 

And  countless  forms  and  faces  come  and  go. 

Into  my  life  unnumbered  steps  have  trod, 
Though  brief  that  life,  and  nearing  now  its  close. 

At  first,  the  forms  of  phantasies  and  dreams, 
And  then  the  varied  tread  of  friends  and  foes. 

Coming  and  going — ah  !  there  lay  the  pang, 

That  when  my  heart  had  blossomed  and  unlocked 

Its  wealth  to  greet  the  loved  familiar  step, 
Lo  !  it  was  gone,  and  only  echoes  mocked 

My  listening  ear.     But  oh  !  there  came  one  step, 
So  soft  and  slow,  which  said,  "  I  pass  not  1 

But  stay  with  thee  forever,  if  thou  wilt, 
Amid  this  constant  instability." 

Then  in  His  eyes  I  saw  the  love  I  craved — 
Love  past  my  Craving — love  that  died  for  me. 

1  le  took  my  hand,  and  in  its  gentle  strength 
I  learned  the  joy  of  leaning  utterly. 


THE  MASTER  CALLS.  123 


Still  do  the  countless  footsteps  come  and  go  ; 

Still  with  a  sigh  the  echoes  die  away : 
But  One  abides,  and  fills  the  solitude 

With  music  and  with  beauty,  night  and  day. 


£I)e  master  (Calls. 

THE  Master  calls  thee  !    Oh,  thrice  blessed  words, 
And  can  it  be  they  are  addressed  to  me  ? 
How  gladly,  quickly  will  I  leave  all  else, 
And  rise,  my  Lord,  to  follow  after  Thee  ! 

So  sang  I,  quite  unmindful  that  the  path 

Is  ofttimes  strange  that  leads  the  surest  home  ; 

Exultant  in  the  first  fresh  burst  of  joy, 

It  was  enough  to  know  my  Lord  said,  "  Come  ! " 

The  skies  grew  dark,  the  rough  and  angry  winds 
Dashed  cherished  hopes  about  in  reckless  glee  ; 

While  through  the  midnight  gloom  I  heard  the  words, 
"  This  is  the  way  if  thou  would 'st  follow  Me. 

u  Ease,  wealth,  and  honor  lovest  thou  more  than 
Christ  ? 

The  things  that  lure  souls  on  to  endless  waste  ? 
If  not,  then  come  thou  now  apart  writh  Him, 

And  bear  the  cross,  His  cup  of  sorrow  taste." 

With  faltering  footsteps  and  with  trembling  heart 
I  left  the  sunshine,  praying,  "  If  I  must 

Walk  in  the  darksome  way,  O  Lord,  draw  near 
And  hold  my  hand,  in  Thee  alone  I  trust  ! " 


124  DENIAL. 

Good  Master,  Marah's  waters  do  become 

Sweet  to  my  lips  when  Thy  hand  holds  the  cup  ; 

All,  all  is  well,  for  in  the  gloom  I  find 
Thy  loving  hand  my  soul  is  lifting  up. 

In  the  deep  shadows  I  have  long  since  proved 
The  truth  unfailing  which  Thy  grace  unfolds ; 

Prove  Thou  my  thankfulness  for  gifts  bestowed, 
And  my  submission  when  Thy  love  withholds. 


Denial. 

WE  look  with  scorn  on  Peter's  thrice-told  lie  ! 
Boldly  we  say,  "  Good  brother  !  you  nor  I, 
So  near  the  sacred  Lord,  the  Christ  indeed, 
Had  dared  His  name  and  marvelous  grace  deny/' 

O  futile  boast !     O  haughty  lips,  be  dumb  ! 
Unheralded  by  boisterous  trump  or  drum, 

How  oft  'mid  silent  eves,  and  midnight  chimes, 
Vainly  to  us  our  pleading  Lord  hath  come, 

Knocked  at  our  hearts,  striven  to  enter  there  ; 
But  we,  poor  slaves  of  mortal  sin  and  care, 

Sunk  in  deep  sloth,  or  bound  by  spiritual  sleep 
Heard  not  the  voice  divine,  the  tender  prayer  ! 

Ah  !  well  for  us  if  some  late  spring-tide  hour 
Faith    still    may  bring,    with    blended    shine   and 
shower ; 
If  through  warm  tears  a  late  remorse  may  shed, 
Our  wakened  souls  put  forth  one  heavenly  flower  ! 


ONE  BY  ONE,  125 


(Dnc  bij  (Due. 

THEY  arc  gathering  homeward  from  every  land, 
One  by  one  ; 
As  their  weary  feet  touch  the  shining  strand, 

One  by  one 
Their  brows  are  clothed  in  a  golden  crown, 
Their  travel-stained  garments  are  all  laid  down, 
And,  clothed  with  white  raiment,  they  rest  on  the 

mead, 
Where  the  Lamb  loveth  His  chosen  to  lead, 

One  by  one. 

Before  they  rest  they  pass  through  the  strife, 

One  by  one  ; 
Through  the  waters  of  death  they  enter  life, 

One  by  one  ; 
To  some  are  the  floods  of  the  river  still, 
As  they  ford  their  way  to  the  heavenly  hill ; 
To  others  the  waves  run  fiercely  wild, 
Yet  all  reach  the  home  of  the  undeflled, 

One  by  one. 

We,  too,  shall  come  to  the  river  side, 

One  by  one  ; 
We  are  nearer  its  water  each  eventide, 

One  by  one  ; 
We  can  hear  the  noise  and  dash  of  the  stream, 
Now  and  again  through  life's  deep  dream  ; 
Sometimes  the  floods  o'er  the  banks  o'erflow ; 
Sometimes  in  ripples  the  small  waves  go, 

One  by  one. 


126  RESIGXATION. 


Jesus,  Redeemer  !  we  look  to  Thee, 

One  by  one  ; 
We  lift  our  voices  tremblingly, 

One  by  one  ; 
The  waves  of  the  river  are  dark  and  cold, 
We  know  not  the  spots  where  our  feet  may  hold  ; 
Thou,  who  didst  pass  through  in  deep  midnight, 
Strengthen  us,  send  us  the  staff  and  the  light, 

One  by  one. 

Plant  Thou  Thy  feet  beside  us  as  we  tread, 

One  by  one  ; 
On  Thee  let  us  lean  each  drooping  head, 

One  by  one, 
Let  Thy  mighty  arm  round  us  be  twined, 
We'll  cast  all  our  fears  and  cares  to  the  wind. 
Saviour !  Redeemer  !  with  Thee  full  in  view, 
Smilingly,  gladsomely,  shall  we  pass  through, 

One  by  one. 


s 


lUsigmUion. 

O  hard  !  so  hard  !  all  through  the  weary  day, 
I've  struggled  for  the  strength  and  grace  to  say 
"  Thy  will  be  done." 


I  can  not  say  it !  still  my  aching  heart 
Rebels,  nor  can  it  yet  consent  to  part 

With  what  it  loves. 

Lord,  hear  !  Lord,  help  !     Lo  !  at  Thy  feet  I  lie  ! 
Oh  !  hear  this  once  my  cry  of  agony  ! 

Spare  me  this  blow 


HIGH  CALLIXG  OF  GOD  IN  CHRIST.     127 


Or  else,  0  Christ !  who  didst  not  scorn  to  pray 
That  Thy  too  bitter  cup  might  pass  away, 

Yet  wast  resigned, 

Teach  me,  Thy  servant,  warm  with  anxious  fear, 
To  pray,  with  Thee,  that  sweet  and  awful  prayer, 

"  Thy  will  be  done." 


(Eljc  £)igl)  (Calling  of  (5ob  in  (Cl)rist  3csns. 

4'  I  a vi  the  Almighty  God ;  walk  before  me,  a,7id  be  thou  perfect." 

LORD,  dost  Thou  care  to  have  my  soul 
Before  Thee  in  the  Light — 
As  thou  art,  true  and  pure  and  whole, 
As  Thou  art,  wise  and  right  ? 

Hast  Thou  indeed  so  high  an  aim 

For  one  who  looked  so  low — 
A  way  above  the  reach  of  shame 

Wherein  my  heart  may  go  ? 

Then  fill  the  fullness  of  my  gaze 
From  that  sure  sight  of  Thine, 

Which  girds  the  sinner  with  Thy  praise, 
And  makes  his  life  Divine. 

Thee  only  shall  Thy  servant  claim, 

And  where  Thou  art  to  be, 
His  power  Thy  own  Almighty  name, 

And  all  his  springs  in  Thee. 


128  "CLOSER   TOME!" 


Watch  mc  for  this  amid  the  fear 

That  time  must  yet  fulfill ; 
Watch  me  through  hopes  that  disappear 

At  Thy  redeeming  will. 

Thy  purpose  in  me  shall  not  fail 

With  my  declining  breath  ; 
Thy  thought  is  that  which  shall  prevail 

Against  the  bars  of  death. 

The  thing  that  dieth,  let  it  die  ; 

Let  that  which  goes  depart ; 
But  keep  me  seeing  with  Thine  eye, 

And  thinking  with  Thy  heart. 


"Closer  ia  iHc! 


11 


CLOSER,  my  Child,  to  Me, 
Closer  to  Me ! 
It  is  a  Father's  hand 

That  chastens  thee ; 
From  every  danger  free, 
My  arms  shall  gather  thee 
Closer  to  Me  ! 

Deepens  the  pain  and  strife, 
The  anguish  sore  ? 

Wrestles  the  tired  soul 

With  Life  no  more  ? 

Rest  waiteth  here  for  thee — 

Cling,  weary  one,  to  Mc, 
Closer  to  Me  ! 


SOMETIIIXG  FOR  GOD.  I  29 


Come,  with  thy  great  unrest 

Thy  pain  unfold ; 
Come,  with  Life's  problems  vexed, 

And  Truth  behold ! 
Come,  through  the  golden  sea 
Of  Christ's  dear  love  for  thee, 

Closer  to  Me  ! 


Something  for  (5ob. 

SOMETHING,  my  God,  for  Thee— 
Something  for  Thee ! 
That  each  day's  setting  sun  may  bring 
Some  penitential  offering; 
In  Thy  dear  name  some  kindness  done — 
To  Thy  dear  love  some  wanderer  won — 
Some  trial  meekly  borne  for  Thee, 
Dear  Lord,  for  Thee  ! 

Something,  my  God,  for  Thee — 

Something  for  Thee  ! 
That  to  Thy  gracious  throne  may  rise 
Sweet  incense  from  some  sacrifice ; 
Uplifted  eyes,  undimmed  by  tears ; 
Uplifted  faith,  unstained  by  fears ; 

Hailing  each  joy  as  light  from  Thee, 

Dear  Lord,  for  Thee  ! 

Something,  my  God,  for  Thee — 

Something  for  The3 ! 
For  the  great  love  that  Thou  hast  given — 
For  the  dear  hope  of  Thee  and  heaven, 
9 


130  THE  THINGS  I  MISS. 


My  soul  her  first  allegiance  brings, 
And  upward  plumes  her  heavenward  wings 
Nearer  to  Thee  ! 


ffilje  fUjinge  3  ittiss. 

AN  easy  thing,  O  Power  Divine, 
To  thank  Thee  for  these  gifts  of  Thine  : 
For  summer's  sunshine,  winter's  snow, 
The  hearts  that  burn,  the  thoughts  that  glow; 
But  when  shall  I  attain  to  this, 
To-thank  Thee  for  the  things  I  miss? 

For  all  young  fancy's  early  gleams, 
The  dreamed-of  joys,  that  still  are  dreams, 
Hopes  unfulfilled  and  pleasures  known 
Through  others'  fortunes  not  my  own, 
And  blessings  seen  that  are  not  given, 
And  ne'er  will  be,  this  side  Heaven. 

Had  I  too  shared  the  joys  I  see, 
Would  there  have  been  a  Heaven  for  me  ? 
Should  I  have  felt  Thy  Being  near, 
Had  I  possessed  what  I  hold  dear? 
My  deepest  knowledge,  highest  bliss, 
Have  come  perchance  from  things  I  miss. 

To-day  has  brought  an  hour  of  calm  ; 
Grief  turns  to  blessing,  pain  to  balm  ; 
I  feel  a  power  above  my  will 
That  draws  me,  draws  me  onward  still. 
And  now  my  heart  attains  to  this,    . 
To  thank  Thee  for  the  things  I  miss. 


"MY  TIMES  ARE  IN  THY  HAND."       131 


"ittri  Games  arc  in  ®l)t)  fjanb." 

YEARS  came  and  went,  and  v/ith  me  all  was  well, 
My  bark  sailed  smoothly  o'er  life's  treacherous 
seas, 
Health,  peace,  and  comfort  crowned  each  passSg 
day, 
And  I  had  visions  bright  of  wealth  and  ease. 
But  the  fierce  tempest  rose,  and  all  was  wrecked, 
My  strongest  cables  proved  but  ropes  of  sand ; 
Then,  through  the  darkness,  Lord,  I  cried  to  Thee, 
"  My  times  are  in  Thy  hand  \" 

I  gathered  all  my  strength  the  tide  to  stem, 
To  snatch  some  fragments  from  the  tossing  wave 

But  sickness  came  and  laid  me  helpless  by — 
Perhaps  would  bear  me  quickly  to  my  grave  ; 

Still  to  Thy  Word  for  refuge  turned  my  soul : 
Lord,  dost  Thou  call  me  to  the  silent  land  ? 

Or  shall  Thy  voice  of  healing  bid  me  live  ? 
"  My  times  are  in  Thy  hand." 

Slowly  from  fevered  couch  again  I  rise, 

With  wasted  strength  the  struggle  to  renew ; 

Ah,  how  shall  faltering  steps  and  fainting  heart 
Endure  life's  toilsome  journey  to  pursue  ? 

My  bleeding  feet  a  flinty  path  must  tread, 

My  hopes  may  still  be  dashed  upon  the  strand  ; 

Yet  one  sweet  thought  shall  keep  me  from  despair  •- 
"  My  times  are  in  Thy  hand." 

So  will  I  onward  press  till  life  is  C  er, 

And  Death's  stern  mandate  'goth  my  steps  arrest ; 


iy2  IN  DARKNESS. 


Then  earth  for  heaven  shall  be  the  glad  exchange — - 

This  weary  toil  for  that  eternal  rest. 
But  when,  or  where,  or  how  that  change  shall  come, 

Whispers  my  anxious  soul  with  keen  demand. 
It  matters  not,  dear  Lord,  Thou  knowest  well — 
"  My  times  are  in  Thy  hand." 


3n  darkness. 

OH,  for  the  seeing  eye, 
Oh,  for  the  hearing  ear ! 
To  know,  though  bitter  blasts  go  by, 
Though  stormy  clouds  are  in  the  sky, 
That  God,  my  God,  is  near ! 

Darkness  and  sore  dismay 

Have  compassed  me  about : 
As  one  who  in  a  lonesome  way 
Longs  for  the  breaking  of  the  day 
To  put  his  fears  to  rout, — 

Yet  knows  that  day,  alas  ! 

Will  only  show  more  plain 
The  rugged  road  he  has  to  pass, 
The  frowning  rocks,  the  black  morass, 

The  danger  and  the  pain, — 

So  I,  from  hour  to  hour, 

A  dreary  path  have  trod  : — 
Oh,  but  to  feel  the  gracious  power, 
That  in  the  sunshine  or  the  shower, 
Still  draws  me  up  to  God ! 


/    VOICE  IN  THE  NIGHT.  l  S3 


Give  me  a  little  space, 

Lord,  of  my  life,  to  see 
The  tender  sweetness  of  Thy  face, 
And  suffer  in  this  darksome  place 

One  gleam  of  light  to  be. 

Sorrow  and  loss  and  pain 

Have  been  my  frequent  share  ; 
Yea,  and  will  be  my  share  again, 
But  shall  I  wring  my  hands  in  vain 
For  blank,  unanswered  prayer  ? 

Give  me  the  seeing  eye, 

Give  me  the  hearing  ear; 
And  with  Thy  comfort  satisfy 
The  yearning  heart  till  by  and  by 
I  find  my  Saviour  here  ! 


Q  tloicc  in  tl)c  Xigl)t. 

I  HEARD  a  voice  in  the  night : 
"  Lord,  why  doth  Thine  anger  burn  ? 
Thou  hast  hidden  Thee  from  our  sight, 
Wilt  Thou  not  soon  return  ?  " 

Through  the  silence  there  came  a  sound 
Like  a  silver  trumpet  clear : 
"  Call,  for  lie  may  be  found, 
Seek  Him,  for  He  is  near. 

"  In  thy  darkness  and  thy  dearth 

Thou  hast  turned  from  Him  away; 


134        THE  JOY  OF  IXCOMPLETENESS. 


But  the  sun  is  as  near  the  earth 
In  the  night  as  in  the  day. 

"  Lo  !  the  stars  that  climb  the  skies, 
Their  day  has  already  begun  ; 
'Tis  the  darkening  world  that  lies 
Between  thee  and  the  sun." 


®l)c  Son  of  Incompleteness. 

IF  all  our  lives  were  one  broad  glare 
Of  sunlight,  clear,  unclouded  ; 
If  all  our  path  were  smooth  and  fair, 

By  no  soft  gloom  enshrouded  ; 
If  all  life's  flowers  were  fully  blown 

Without  the  sweet  unfolding, 
And  happiness  were  rudely  thrown 
On  hands  too  weak  for  holding — 

Should  we  not  miss  the  twilight  hours, 

The  gentle  haze  and  sadness  ? 
Should  we  not  long  for  storms-  and  showers 
To  break  the  constant  gladness  ? 

If  none  were  sick  and  none  were  sad, 

What  service  could  we  render  ? 
I  think  if  we  were  always  glad, 

We  scarcely  could  be  tender. 
Did  our  beloved  never  need 

Our  patient  ministration, 
Earth  would  grow  cold,  and  miss,  indeed, 

Its  sweetest  consolation  ; 


"I  HAVE  CALLED   YOU  FRIENDS!'       135 


If  sorrow  never  claimed  our  heart, 
And  every  wish  were  granted, 

Patience  would  die,  and  hope  depart- 
Life  would  be  disenchanted. 

And  yet  in  heaven  is  no  more  night, 

In  heaven  is  no  more  sorrow ! 
Such  unimacrined  new  delight 

Fresh  grace  from  pain  will  borrow — 
As  the  poor  seed  that  underground 

Seeks  its  true  light  above  it, 
Not  knowing  what  will  then  be  found 
When  sunbeams  kiss  and  love  it. 
So  we  in  darkness  upward  grow, 
And  look  and  long  for  heaven, 
But  can  not  picture  it  below, 
Till  more  of  light  be  given. 


"I  ijime  Cailcb  tlon  frienbs/' 

FROM  the  fine  fret  of  little  care, 
That  gnaweth  bitterly 
Upon  the  soul  grown  sore  to  it, 

I  turn,  O  Christ,  to  Thee  ! 
O  Thou,  the  Careworn  !  canst  Thou  turn 
As  longingly  to  me  ? 

Beaten  and  bruised  with  sorrows  past, 

From  those  to  come  I  flee 
Reluctant  as  a  frightened  child, 

And  clinging  unto  Thee., 
O  Man  of  Sorrows  !  can  Thy  pain 

Find  any  rest  in  me  ? 


136  MORNING— NOOK— NIGHT. 


Worn  with  the  deeper  wear  of  sin 
Graven  on  the  soul  of  me  ; 

In  such  a  marred  and  shattered  thing, 
O  perfect  Heart !  canst  see 

A  nature  fit  by  any  cost 
To  be  a  friend  to  Thee  ? 

Is  that  the  meaning  of  the  Word 
Which  says  Thou  lovest  me  ? 

By  the  deep  stirring  of  my  heart 
In  yearning  after  Thee, 

By  all  the  longing  of  the  life 
That  leaneth  unto  Thee, 

As  human  friend  with  human  friend, 

Can  I  so  think  of  Thee  ? 
Like  human  love  with  human  love 

Will  heavenly  rapture  be  ? 
Such  more  than  human  blessedness 

Be  meant  in  truth  for  me  ! 

I'll  bring  the  glorious  vision  down, 
It  shall  commune  with  me, 

Till  for  Thy  dear  love's  sake  at  last 
It  teachcth  me  to  be, 

Even  me — unworthy,  worn,  and  sad — 
A  comfort  unto  Thee. 


iUorning— Xooit— Xigljt. 

GOD  called  me  in  the  morning  of  my  day, 
And   said,  "  Thy  path  of   life   is  bright  with 
flowers  ; 


MORNING— NOON— NIG  II  T.  T  3 7 


But  leave  them  blooming  on  their  short-lived  way, 
And  seek  my  gifts,  that  fade  not  with  the  hours." 

But  ah  !  the  path  of  prayer  seemed  steep  and  long— • 
The  coming  of  these  heavenly  gifts  delayed  : 

The  present  wooed  me,  and  the  groves  among, 
Crowned  with  their  blossoms,  to  and  fro  I  strayed. 

Again  He  called  me  in  the  noontide  hours, 

When  clouds  had  gathered  thickly  o'er  the  sky. 

All  drenched  and  sodden  lay  the  sunless  flowers, 
Cowering  beneath  the  storm  that  swept  them  by. 

I  answered  :  "  Soon  the  sun  must  reappear  ; 

The  joys  of  earth  will  lift  their  heads  again  ; 
I  am  too  sad  to  pray,  and  need  for  cheer 

Music  and  laughter,  and  the  voice  of  men." 

And  these  clouds  passed  ;  but  as  I  watching  stood, 
Rose  others,  ever  darkening,  in  their  room, 

Till  day  sank  down  behind  the  western  wood, 
And  bars  of  sunset  reddened  through  the  gloom. 

I  cried,  "  Dear  Lord,  oh,  now  Thy  gifts  bestow ! 

Yet  not  too  late  I  see  their  worth  aright, 
Though  gone  the  strength  that  made  my  morning 
glow, 

And  eve  be  hastening  swiftly  down  to-night." 

And  He  made  answer  :  "  Seeking  now,  so  late  ? 

Yes  ;  there  is  room,  and  pardon  still  for  thee  ! 
Long  has  my  love  been  waiting  at  thy  gate 

The  hour  when  thou  wouldst  turn  and  come  to 
me. 


13s  A   LITTLE    WHILE. 


,;  Nor  age  nor  weakness  chills  the  contrite  heart, 
Wherein  to  dwell  I  evermore  delight : 

Though  in  their  gladness  thou  may'st  not  have  part, 
Who  all  day  long  have  labored  in  my  sight. 

"  See  how  they  come,  bringing  their  golden  sheaves 
To  lay  them  down,  rejoicing,  at  my  feet ! 

Thine  are  the  worthless  blossoms — withered  leaves — 
Of  years  that  brought  to  me  no  offering  sweet. 

"  Yes,  o'er  thy  past  the  cleansing  blood  shall  flow  ; 

The  quickening  breath  shall  give  thy  soul  new  birth  ; 
And  ev'n  from  thy  weak  lips  may  others  know 

The  Father's  welcome,  and  the  Saviour's  worth." 

Who  comes  to  Jesus,  Jesus  will  receive, 

Though,  while  he  comes,  death's  shadows  o'er  him 
fall; 

But  even  in  endless  bliss  this  thought  may  live — 
"  Nought  have  I  given  to  Him,  who  gave  me  All  ! ' 


&  tittle  iDIjilc. 

A  LITTLE  while  with  tides  of  dark  and  light 
The  moon  shall  fill  ; 
Warm  autumn's  gold  be  changed  to  shrouding  white 

And  winter's  chill. 
A  little  while  shall  tender  human  flowers 

In  beauty  blow ; 
And  ceaselessly  through  shade  and  sunny  hours 

Death's  harvest  grow. 


"DOE   YE  NEXTE   TIIYXGE."  139 


A  little  while  shall  tranquil  planets  speed 

Round  central  flame  ; 
New  empires  spring  and  pass,  new  names  succeed 

And  lapse  from  fame. 
A  little  while  shall  cold  star-tapers  burn 

Through  time's  brief  night ; 
Then  shall  my  soul's  beloved  One  return 

With  day-spring  bright. 

How  oft  in  golden  dreams  I  see  Him  stand, 

I  list  His  voice, 
As  winning  largess  from  His  lifted  hand 

The  poor  rejoice  : 
But  waking  bears  that  vision  dear  away, 

My  better  part, 
And  leaves  me  to  this  pale  and  empty  day, 

This  longing  heart. 
I  can  not  see  Thee,  but  I  love  Thee.     Oh, 

Thine  eyes  that  read 
The  deepest  secrets  of  the  spirit,  know 

'Tis  love  indeed  ! 
A  little  while  ;  but,  ah  !  how  long  it  seems  ! 

My  Jesus,  come, 
Surpass  the  rapture  of  my  sweetest  dreams, 

And  take  me  home  ! 


"Doe  ge  JXtxtt  £i)rmge." 

FROM  an  old  English  parsonage, 
Down  by  the  sea, 
There  came,  in  the  twilight, 
A  message  to  me  ; 


140  "  DCE   YE  NEXTE  THYNGE? 


Its  quaint  Saxon  legend, 

Deeply  engraven, 
Hath,  as  it  seems  to  me, 

Teaching  from  Heaven ; 
And  through  the  hours 

The  quiet  words  ring, 
Like  a  low  inspiration, 

"  Doe  ye  nexte  thynge." 

Many  a  questioning, 

Many  a  fear, 
Many  a  doubt, 

Hath  its  quieting  here. 
Moment  by  moment, 

Let  down  from  Heaven, 
Time,  opportunity, 

Guidance  are  given  ; 
Fear  not  to-morrows, 

Child  of  the  King  ; 
Trust  them  with  Jesus, 

"  Doe  ye  nexte  thynge." 

Oh,  He  would  have  thee 

Daily  more  free, 
Knowing  the  might 

Of  thy  Royal  degree  ; 
Ever  in  waiting, 

Glad  for  His  call ; 
Tranquil  in  chastening, 

Trusting  through  all. 
Comings  and  goings 

No  turmoil  need  bring  ; 
His  all  thy  future — 

11  Doe  ye  nexte  thynge." 


LOOK  NO  MORE  WITHIN.  M 


Do  it  immediately, 

Do  it  with  prayer, 
Do  it  reliantly, 

Casting  off  care  ; 
Do  it  with  reverence, 

Tracing  His  hand 
Who  hath  placed  it  before  thee 

With  earnest  command. 
Stayed  on  Omnipotence, 

Safe  'neath  His  wing, 
Leave  all  resultings — 

"  Doe  ye  nexte  thynge." 

Looking  to  Jesus  ; 

Ever  serener, 
Working  or  suffering, 

Be  thy  demeanor  ! 
In  the  shade  of  His  presence, 

The  rest  of  His  calm, 
The  light  of  His  countenance, 

Live  out  thy  psalm. 
Strong  in  His  faithfulness, 

Praise  Him  and  sing  ; 
Then,  as  He  beckons  thee, 

"  Doe  ye  nexte  thynge." 


Cook  110  Ittorc  toitljin. 


L' 


OOK  no  more  within  ! 
There  is  only  sin  ; 
Lost,  the  Father  could  not  have  you 
So  His  only  Son  He  gave  you  ; 
Look  to  Jesus,  lie  will  save  you  ; 


14-  TO  OXE  OF  LITTLE  FAITH. 


Look  to  Him,  the  work  is  done  : 
You  are  saved  in  Christ  the  Son 

Look  no  more  within  ! 
There  is  only  sin  : 
Cast  the  sad,  sad  past  behind  you  ; 
Let  the  Tempter  no  more  blind  you 
Nor  within  his  prisons  grind  you  ; 
Call  earth's  richest  gain  but  loss : 
Fix  your  eye  upon  the  Cross  ! 

Look  no  more  within  ! 
There  is  only  sin  : 
Help  from  self  you  can  not  borrow  ; 
Nor  atone  for  sin  and  sorrow ; 
Nor  make  ready  for  the  morrow  ; 
Only  look  ;  your  soul  shall  live  : 
Free  salvation  God  will  give. 

Look  no  more  within  ! 
There  is  only  sin  : 
All  your  help  from  self  disowning, 
Leave  your  sighing  and  your  groaning; 
Look  to  Christ,  the  Lamb  atoning ; 
He  will  bear  your  sins  away  : 
He's  God's  new  and  living  Way  ! 


®o  (Due  of  tittle  faiti). 

*I taidy  O  that  I  hud  WlHgt  like  a  dove  :  for  then  would  I  fly  mvaj 

and  be  at  rest." 


N 


AY,  friend,  endure  with  meekne 

The  ills  of  mortal  life, — 


TO  OXE  OF  LITTLE  FA  I  TIL  143 


Its  loneliness  and  weakness, 

Its  bitterness  and  strife. 
Seek  not  to  rest  thy  spirit 

Upon  its  surging  wave, 
Nor  with  its  scalding  waters 

Thy  fevered  brow  to  lave. 

Though  trusted  hearts  may  waver, 

Grow  weary  and  estranged, 
Thy  Father's  loving  favor, 

Unwearied  and  unchanged, 
Shall  be  thy  sure  protection, 

Though  fears  and  foes  invade  : 
Trusting  in  His  affection 

Thou  canst  not  be  dismayed. 

What  though  thy  soul  be  riven 

By  Earth's  appalling  wrong, 
Faint  not !    To  thee  is  given 

"  To  suffer  and  be  strong." 
Look  not  for  sign  or  token  ; 

The  promise  is  secure  : 
The  word  which  God  has  spoken 

Forever  shall  endure  ! 

Press  forward  !     Never  falter 

Where  Truth  betrayed,  enthralled, 
Before  her  blood-stained  altar, 

Invokes  the  Throne  of  God  ! 
Let  no  dark  thoughts  confound  thee  ;- 

On  yonder  heights  sublime 
The  hosts  of  God  surround  thee ; 

Trust  Him  and  wait  His  time. 


144  BLIGHT— BLOOM. 


L 


!3ligl)t— Uloom. 


JFE  hath  its  barren  years; — 
When  blossoms  fall  untimely  down  ; 
When  ripened  fruitage  fails  to  crown 
The  summer  toil ;  when  nature's  frown 
Looks  only  on  our  tears. 

Life  hath  its  faithless  days, 
The  golden  promise  of  a  morn 
That  seemed  for  light  and  gladness  born, 
Meant  only  noontide  wreck  and  scorn, 

Hushed  harp  instead  of  praise. 

Life  hath  its  valleys  too, 
Where  we  must  walk  with  vain  regret, 
With  mourning  clothed,  with  wild  rain  wet, 
Toward  sunlight  hopes  that  soon  may  set 

All  quenched  in  pitying  dew. 


Life  hath  its  harvest  moons, 
Its  tasseled  corn  and  purple  weighted  vine ; 
Its  gathered  sheaves  of  grain,  the  blessed  sign 
Of  plenteous  reaping,  bread  and  pure  rich  wine 

Full  hearts  for  harvest  tunes. 

Life  hath  its  hopes  fulfilled  ; 
Its  glad  fruitions,  its  blest  answered  prayer, 
Sweeter  for  waiting  lon^,  whose  holy  air 
Indrawn  to  silent  souls  breathes  forth  in  rare 

Grand  speech,  by  joy  distilled. 


THE  ALTERED  MOTTO.  145 


Life  hath  its  Tabor  heights ; 
Its  lofty  mounts  of  heavenly  recognition, 
Whose  unveiled  glories  flash  to  earth  munition 
Ol  love  and  truth,  and  clearer  intuition. 

Hail !  mount  of  all  delights  ! 


£1)C  QUiercb  iUotta. 

OH,  the  bitter  shame  and  sorrow 
That  a  time  could  ever  be 
When  I  let  the  Saviour's  pity 
Plead  in  vain,  and  proudly  answered : 
"All  of  self,  and  none  of  Thee!" 

But  He  found  me.     I  beheld  Him 

Bleeding  on  the  accursed  tree, 
Heard  Him  pray:  "  Forgive  them,  Fathe 
And  my  wistful  heart  said  faintly : 
"Some  of  self,  a?id  some  of  Thee  !  " 

Day  by  day  His  tender  mercy, 

Healing,  helping,  full  and  free, 
Sweet  and  strong,  and,  ah  !  so  patient, 
Brought  me  lower,  while  I  whispered  : 
"Less  of  self,  and  more  of  Thee  !  " 

Higher  than  the  highest  heavens, 

Deeper  than  the  deepest  sea, 
Lord,  Thy  love  at  last  hath  conquered : 
Grant  me  now  my  soul's  desire — 
"None  of  self,  and  all  of  Thee  !  " 
10 


146  OUR  FATHER. 


0nr  £  a  i  I)  c  r . 

OTHOU  whom  we  arc  taught,  in  faith,  to  call 
Our  Father,  glad  in  our  dear  right  we  come 
With  mind,  with  soul,  with  spirit,  bringing  all 
To  learn  accord  with  Thee — life's  perfect  sum  ; 
Not  as  a  slave,  but  as  Thy  child,  we  hear 
Thy  voice,  and  find  in  perfect  love  no  fear. 

The  spirit-blind,  who  with  a  master's  key, 

Unlock  new  wonders  in  Thy  universe, 
By  all  their  searching  can  not  find  out  Thee — 
The  mighty  to  create,  confine,  disperse ; 

Their  awe  forbids  Thee  name — they  give  Thee 

none, 
Teach  them  to  say  "  Our  Father,"  let  Thy  will 
be  done. 

What  could  we  call  Thee  by  Thy  works  alone  ? 

Science  stands  mute  before  them,  known  in  part, 
'Tis  love  hath  made  the  high  prerogative  our  own 
To  say,  "  Our  Father  who  in  heaven  art ! ' 

Heaven  is  Thy  kingdom  that  shall  rise  within, 
When  hearts  elect  to  let  Thy  reign  begin. 

Dear  name  that  binds  us  to  the  Infinite, 

That  grants  us  heirship  to  a  grander  life  ! 
It  holds  us  safe,  even  while  we  whisper  it, 
And  hushes  into  peace  all  sense  of  strife. 

Our  Father  cares  for  us,  O  restful  thought — 
O  breath  of  balm,  with  heavenly  healing  fraught  ! 


THE   THREE  WATCHWORDS.  147 


Our  Father,  we  are  weary,  let  us  rest ; 

Thou  knowest  how  far  the  tired  feet  have  sped ; 

The  way  seemed  dark  and  rough,  Thou  knowest  best, 

We  only  know  the  listless  hand — the  aching  head — - 

The  trusting  heart,  that  says  Thy  love  will  keep, 

Dear  Father,  even  while  Thy  well-beloved  sleep. 


(CI)c  (El)  re*  iDatcInaorbs. 

TO  watch,  to  wait,  to  work  ; 
Ah,  me  !  the  fiery  sun, 
The  level,  treeless,  barren,  dew-drained  fields — 
I  would  the  Work  was  done ! 

To  watch,  to  work,  to  wait ; 
Ah,  me  !  the  tedious  roar 
Of  wreck-strewn  oceans  over-roofed  with  clouds — 
I  would  the  Watch  was  o'er ! 

To  wait,  to  work,  to  watch  ; 
Ah,  me !  Thou  absent  Friend, 
Comest  Thou  quickly?     So  Thou  saidst ;  I  would 
The  Waiting  had  an  end  ! 

My  soul,  be  still  and  strong : 
Sight  follows  after  faith. 
In  all  advancement  of  the  true  and  good, 
He  cometh  as  He  saith. 

My  soul,  be  still  and  strong; 
Here  on  Thy  Lord's  estate 
No  place  is  useless,  no  experience  vain. 

Work  on  ;  Watch  on  ;  and  Wait ! 


148  ASTRAY. 


31  s  t  r  a  b  . 

BEWILDERED,  Father,  at  Thy  feet 
I  fall  to-day, 
Seeing  two  paths,  of  thorns  and  sweet, 

In  parted  way, 
And  weary,  blinded,  sore  distrest, 
I  humbly  pray 

For  Thy  behest. 

Adown  this  vista  clusters  fruit 

Tempting  and  bright ; 
Can  it  be  true,  from  branch  and  root 

Spreads  poisonous  blight  ? 
Father,  the  precious  boon  bestow 

To  heal  my  sight, 

That  I  may  know ! 

And  there,  a  bleak  road  stretches  far, 

In  cold  gray  air, 
Wherein  I  see  no  single  star 

To  make  it  fair — 
Oh,  tell  me,  is  the  narrow  way 

Always  so  bare 

Of  golden  ray? 

I  scarcely  dare  to  look  upon 

The  ambered  path, 
So  soft  it  smiles  within  the  sun, 

So  much  it  hath 
Of  joy  to  make  the  other  seem 

Fulfillment  rath, 

Of  some  fell  dream. 


RAISING  OF  JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER.       149 


Surely  my  feet  were  never  fixed 

In  truest  way, 
To  hold  me  thus  two  roads  betwixt 

In  sore  dismay ! 
In  fear  of  wrong,  yet  doubt  of  right, 

Mistrusting  day 

And  dreading  night. 

Yet,  Father,  if  Thou  wilt  but  guide 

We  need  not  mourn, 
Whatever  bitterness  betide  ! 

The  sharpest  thorn 
Is  not  all  painful,  if  the  while 

The  flesh  is  torn 

We  see  Thy  smile. 

The  sun-warmed  vines  must  all  decay, 

Unblest,  or  blest — 
Lead,  Father,  lead  whichever  way 

Thou  seest  best ; 
The  longest  way  is  short  that  yields 

Eternal  rest 

In  heavenly  fields. 


®l)c  liaising  of  Jaime1  Daughter. 

THE  boat  that  bore  the  Master  had 
Crossed  the  silver  sea, 
And  all  along  the  mountain  paths 
Of  rugged  Galilee 


ISO      RAISIXG  OF  JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER. 


Were  sounds  of  voices  eager-pitched, 
Was  throng  of  hurrying  feet, 

For  then,  as  now,  were  weary  hearts, 
And  Jesus'  words  were  sweet. 

With  passion-freighted  earnestness, 

Intense  and  clear  as  flame, 
Through  tumult  cleaving  swift  its  way, 

One  prayer  of  pleading  came  : 
"  My  little  daughter  lieth  sick  ; 

She  lieth  near  to  death  ; 
Oh,  on  her  lay  Thy  gentle  hands — 

Restore  her  fainting  breath  !  " 


The  stately  ruler  bowed  his  head 

Before  the  Nazarene, 
And  meekly  led  the  way  for  Him 

The  surging  ranks  between. 
But  ere  they  reached  the  stricken  house, 

Was  message  brought  of  woe  ! 
"  Thy  daughter  even  now  is  dead  ; 

Vex  not  the  Master  so  !  " 

Dark  grew  the  father's  face  with  grief, 

With  tears  his  eyes  were  dim  ; 
Who  did  not  know  this  darling  child 

Was  all  the  world  to  him  ? 
How  could  they  call  her  dead  ? — the  dear, 

The  beautiful,  the  bright ; 
For  him  the  summer  lost  its  bloom, 

The  noonday  lost  its  light. 

Then  tenderly  unto  his  thought, 
As  if  to  soothe  its  ache, 


RAISING  OF  J  AIR  US'    DAUGHTER.      15 1 


"  Be  not  afraid  ;  still  keep  thy  faith," 
With  power  the  Master  spake, 

Though  long  and  keen  the  mourners'  wail 
Was  borne  upon  the  air — ■ 

The  bitter  cry  of  agony, 

The  protest  of  despair. 

The  Master  hushed  the  clamor 

By  the  peace  upon  His  face, 
As  up  the  stair  He  softly  passed, 

And  stood  within  the  place 
Where,  wan  and  pale,  the  maiden  lay, 

A  lily  frozen  there, 
And  round  her  whiteness,  like  a  cloud, 

The  darkness  of  her  hair. 

So  still,  the  little  feet  that  late 

Had  danced  to  meet  her  sire  ! 
So  still,  the  slender  hands  that  swept 

But  now  the  golden  lyre  ! 
In  this  deep  slumber  can  she  hear 

The  thrilling  word,  "Arise  !  " 
Oh,  will  she  at  that  kingly  look 

Unclose  those  sealed  eyes  ? 

She  hears,  she  stirs,  she  lives  once  more. 

What  joys  for  some  there  be 
When  to  their  hour  of  gloom  the  Lord 

Has  crossed  the  silver  sea  ! 
And  though  to  us  He  give  not  back 

Our  dead,  yet,  better  far, 
We  know  that  where  He  dwells  to-day, 

In  life  our  dear  ones  are. 


152  COUNT  UP   THY  CAINS. 


"  (Telling  Jesus  dhicrn  Xigljt." 

"They  told  hint  all  things." — St.  Mark  vi.  30. 

TELL  Him  all  the  failures, 
Tell  Him  all  the  sins  ; 
He  is  kindly  listening 

Till  His  child  begins. 
Tell  Him  all  the  pleasures 

Of  your  merry  day, 
Tell  Him  all  the  treasures 
Crowning  all  your  way. 


dTonnt  lip  £I)n  ©ain 


s. 


THINK  not  alone  of  what  the  Lord  hath  taken, 
Thou  whom  His  love  has  of  some  joy  bereft, 
But  in  the  moments  thou  art  most  forsaken, 
Think  what  His  love  hath  left. 

Count  up  thy  gains  won  from  affliction's  losses, 
The  riches  gathered  in  no  cheaper  mart ; 

The  faith  and  hope,  new  crowns  to  costly  crosses, 
Wrought  out  by  sorrow's  art. 

For  the  dear  life  of  such  remembered  sweetness, 
Lived  close  with  thine,  thy  life  must  be  more  sweet ; 

And  for  the  spirit  ripened  to  completeness, 
Thine  must  be  more  complete. 


REST,  WE  A  R  V  SO  L'L  !  153 


Thy  heart  that  gave  thee  in  unstinted  measure 
The  heart's  demand — affection,  blessing,  ease  ; — 

Wisdom  and  beauty,  the  soul's  wealth  of  treasure  ; — 
How  rich  art  thou  for  these  ! 

The  morning  brightness,  with  the  promised  splendor 
Of  noontide  glory,  though  it  might  not  stay, 

Glows  with  a  radiance  twilight-like  and  tender 
Upon  thy  dull  to-day — 

As  in  the  stillness  of  the  summer  even, 
The  light  still  lingers  though  the  sun  has  set ; 

And  hues  that  pass,  but  vanish  into  heaven 
To  burn  and  brighten  yet, 

Thou  must  climb  faster  for  the  aspiration 
To  walk  henceforth  where  those  swift  feet  have 
trod ; 

Thou  art  but  fuller  for  the  desolation 
That  shuts  thee  in  with  God. 

Death  is  but  life  passed  on  :  the  sure  progression 
Bears  in  its  sweep  thy  life  to  that  high  sphere ; 

Thus  time's  dread  losses  gain  the  grand  possession 
In  the  eternal  year. 


tkst,  toearg  Gaul ! 

XvEST,  weary  soul ! 
The  penalty  is  borne,  the  ransom  paid, 
For  all  thy  sins  full  satisfaction  made ; 
Strive  not  thyself  to  do  what  Christ  has  done ; 


154       /  KXOW  NOT  IVIIA  T  THOU  DOST. 


Take  the  free  gift,  and  make  the  joy  thine  own, 
No  more  by  pangs  of  guilt  and  fear  distressed — 
Rest,  sweetly  rest ! 

Rest,  weary  heart ! 
From  all  thy  silent  griefs  and  secret  pain, 
Thy  profitless  regrets  and  longings  vain  ; 
Wisdom  and  love  have  ordered  all  the  past, 
All  shall  be  blessedness  and  li^ht  at  last : 
Cast  off  the  cares  that  have  so  long  oppressed — 

Rest,  sweetly  rest ! 

Rest,  weary  head ! 
Lie  down  to  slumber  in  the  peaceful  tomb, 
Light  from  above  has  broken  through  its  gloom  ; 
Here  in  the  place  where  once  thy  Saviour  lay, 
Where  He  shall  wake  thee  on  a  future  day, 
Like  a  tired  child  upon  its  mother's  breast — 

Rest,  sweetly  rest ! 

Rest,  spirit  free ! 
In  the  green  pasture  of  the  heavenly  shore, 
Where  sin  and  sorrow  can  approach  no  more ; 
With  all  the  flocks  by  the  good  Shepherd  fed, 
Beside  the  streams  of  life  eternal  led, 
Forever  with  thy  God  and  Saviour  blessed — 

Rest,  sweetly  rest ! 


i 


3  Know  Xot  vuljat  £l)ott  Dost. 

KNOW  not  what  Thou  dost — all,  all  seems  dark  ; 
Clouds  of  portentous  blackness  are  o'crspread, 


THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD.  1 55 


Wild  billows  dash  upon  my  quivering  bark, 

The  thunder's  crash  reverberates  o'erhead. 
Vet,  Lord,  I'll  trust  Thee  in  life's  darkest  hour, 
My  shield,  my  safeguard,  and  my  strong  high  tower. 

1  know  not  what  Thou  dost — yet  I  will  wait 
Till  I  behold  Thee  in  heaven's  cloudless  sky, 

Till  I  shall  reach  that  glory-circled  state 

In  whose  bright  radiance  darkness  melts  away. 

Then  shall  I  read  Thy  doings  here  below 

Inscribed  in  lines  of  light  which  ever  glow. 

I  know  not  what  Thou  dost — yet  I  will  know, 
And  know  to  praise  Thee  for  my  darkest  days, 

Though  themes  of  sorrow  seem  Thy  doings  now, 
Yet  they  shall  soon  be  turned  to  themes  of  praise — 

Yes,  I  will  trust  Thee  till  Thou  kindly  pour 

On  me  Thy  glory's  coruscating  shower. 

I  know  not  what  Thou  dost — yet  will  I  hope 
In  Thee,  till  life's  wild  troubled  stream  be  past, 

Till  heaven's  fair  portals  on  my  vision  ope, 
Till  immortality  be  o'er  me  cast — 

Till  glory  on  my  wondering  spirit  break, 

And  glad  fruition  follow  in  its  wake. 


£l)e  ®oob  Sljepljcrb. 

HPHE  snow  was  drifting  o'er  the  hills, 
J-       Fierce  was  the  wind  and  loud, 
While  the  Good  Shepherd  forward  pressed, 
His  head  in  sorrow  bowed  ; 


156  THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD. 


"  O  Shepherd,  rest,  nor  farther  go, 

The  tempest  hath  begun. " 
"  I  can  not  stay,  I  must  away 

To  seek  My  little  one  !" 

A  thorn-wreath  bound  the  gentle  brow 

That  beam'd  with  pity  sweet, 
And  marks  of  wounds  were  in  His  hand3; 

And  scars  upon  His  feet. 
Again  I  said  :  "  O  Shepherd,  rest, 

The  tempest  hath  begun." 
He  murmured  :  "  Nay,  I  must  away 

To  seek  My  little  one  !" 

"  I  saw  Thy  flock  at  peace  within 
Thine  old  well-guarded  fold  : 

0  Shepherd,  pause,  for  wild  the  gale 
That  rages  o'er  the  world  ! " 

"  No  ;  one  poor  lamb  hath  gone  astray, 
And  soon  may  be  undone  ; 

1  can  not  stay,  I  must  away 
To  seek  My  little  one  !" 

"  But,  since  Thy  flock  are  all  secure, 
Why  to  the  height  repair  ? 
If  Thou  hast  ninety-nine  at  home, 
Why  for  a  truant  care  ?  " 
"  Dearer  to  Me  than  all  the  rest 
Is  that  poor  struggling  son  ! 
I  can  not  stay,  I  must  away 
To  seek  My  little  one!" 

"  Good  Shepherd,  tell  me,  if  his  need 
Should  bring  the  wanderer  home, 


IN  HIS  KEEPING.  157 


Wilt  Thou  not  punish  him  with  stripes, 
Lest  he  again  should  roam?" 
"  No ;  I  would  clasp  him  to  My  heart, 
As  mother  clasps  her  son  ; 
I  can  not  stay,  I  must  away 
To  seek  My  little  one  !" 

Even  so,  I  thought,  our  gracious  Lord 

Hath  in  His  heart  Divine 
A  wealth  of  love  for  all  His  saints — 

For  all  the  ninety-nine  ! 
But  most  He  loves,  and  most  He  seeks 

The  soul  by  sin  undone ; 
And  still  He  sighs  :  "  I  must  away 

To  seek  My  little  one  ! " 


1 


In  £}is  Keeping. 

LAY  me  down  at  night 
In  peaceful  sleep, 
And  care  not  if  the  glorious  morning  light 
Should  never  greet  again  this  mortal  sight — 
My  soul  He'll  keep  ! 

Why  should  I  hope  or  fear? 
He  knows  my  need  ; 
Whether  the  way  before  stretch  long  and  clear, 
Or  the  valley's  shades  e'en  now  are  near, 
He  still  will  lead  ! 


158  "NOT  AS  I  WILL. 


>> 


The  everlasting  arms 

Encircle  me ; 
I  can  not  fall  beneath  them  in  life's  storms, 
I'm  safe  from  all  that  leads  astray  or  harms, 

So  strong  is  He  ! 

On  Him  my  cares  I  lay 

Whate'er  betides, 
Whether  I  tread  a  long  and  shadowed  way, 
Or  swift  am  borne  by  angels  bright  array, 

Tis  He  who  guides. 

And  if  my  waking  find, 
Within  the  veil, 
Clouds  even  darker  than  those  left  behind, 
I'll  trust  the  hand  that  hath  been  always  kind- 
God  can  not  fail ! 


"TXot  as  3  toil!." 

BLINDFOLDED  and  alone  I  stand, 
With  unknown  threshold  on  each  hand  ; 
The  darkness  deepens  as  I  grope, 
Afraid  to  fear,  afraid  to  hope ; 
Yet  this  one  thing  I  learn  to  know, 
Each  day,  more  surely  as  I  go, 
That  doors  arc  opened,  ways  are  made, 
Burdens  arc  lifted,  or  are  laid, 
By  some  great  law,  unseen  and  still, 
Unfathomcd  purposes  to  fulfill, 
"  Not  as  I  will." 


SMOKING  FLAX  AND  BR  UISED  REED.    1 5 9 


Blindfolded  and  alone  I  wait ; 
Loss  seems  too  bitter,  gain  too  late ; 
Too  heavy  burdens  in  the  load, 
And  too  few  helpers  on  the  road ; 
And  joy  is  weak,  and  grief  is  strong, 
And  years  and  days  so  long,  so  long ; 
Yet  this  one  thing  I  learn  to  know, 
Each  day,  more  surely  as  I  go, 
That  I  am  glad  the  good  and  ill, 
By  changeless  laws  are  ordered  still, 
"  Not  as  I  will." 

"  Not  as  I  will ; Wl  the  sound  grows  sweet 

Each  time  my  lips  the  wrords  repeat. 
"  Not  as  I  will ; "  the  darkness  feels 

i\lore  safe  than  light  when  this  thought  steals, 

Like  whispered  voice,  to  calm  and  bless 

All  unrest  and  all  loneliness. 
"  Not  as  I  will,"  because  the  One 

Who  loves  us  first  and  best  has  gone 

Before  us  on  the  road,  and  still 

For  us  must  all  His  love  fulfill. 
"Not  as  we  will." 


8l)e  Smoking  flax  anh  Sruiacb  fieeb, 


w 


,\  1  HEN  evening  choirs  the  praises  hymned 
In  Zion's  courts  of  old, 


The  high-priest  walked  his  rounds,  and  trimmed 
The  shining  lamps  of  gold  ; 


1 60   SMOKING  FLA X  A  ND  BR  UISED  REED. 


And  if,  perchance,  some  flame  burned  low, 
With  fresh  oil  vainly  drenched, 

He  cleansed  it  from  its  socket,  so 
The  smoking  flax  was  quenched. 

But  Thou  who  walkest,  Priest  Most  High ! 

Thy  golden  lamps  among, 
What  things  are  weak,  and  near  to  die, 

Thou  makest  fresh  and  strong. 
Thou  breathest  on  the  trembling  spark, 

That  else  must  soon  expire, 
And  swift  it  shoots  up  through  the  dark, 

A  brilliant  spear  of  fire  ! 

The  shepherd,  that  to  stream  and  shade 

Withdrew  his  flock  at  noon, 
On  reedy  stop  soft  music  made, 

In  many  a  pastoral  tune ; 
And  if,  perchance,  the  reed  were  crushed, 

It  could  no  more  be  used, — 
Its  mellow  music  marred  and  hushed ; 

He  brake  it,  when  so  bruised. 

But  Thou,  Good  Shepherd,  who  dost  feed 

Thy  flock  in  pasture  green, 
Thou  dost  not  break  the  bruised  reed 

That  sorely  crushed  hath  been. 
The  heart  that  dumb  in  anguish  lies, 

Or  yields  but  notes  of  woe, 
Thou  dost  re-tune  to  harmonies 

More  rich  than  angels  know  ! 

Lord,  once  my  love  was  all  ablaze, 
But  now  it  burns  so  dim  ; 


THE  CROSS.  161 


My  life  was  praise,  but  now  my  days 
Make  a  poor  broken  hymn. 

Yet  ne'er  by  Thee  am  I  forgot, 
But  help'd  in  deepest  need, — 

The  smoking  flax  Thou  quenchest  not, 
Nor  break'st  the  bruised  reed. 


^t  Jesus1  feet. 

DEAR  Master,  I  am  sitting  at  Thy  feet ; 
I  would  not  miss  a  look  or  lose  a  word  ; 
The  hour  is  very  holy  when  we  meet ; 

I  fain  would  see  and  hear  none  but  the  Lord ; 
I  long  to  lay  aside  joy,  grief,  and  fear, 
And  only  know  and  feel  that  Thou  art  near. 

The  world's  discordant  noises  evermore 
Clang  round  about  my  ears  and  weary  me ; 

They  were  rough  hands,  ungentle  hearts  before 
That  troubled  me ;  but  now  I  come  to  Thee, 

O  Jesus,  quiet  me  with  tender  speech, 

While  up  to  Thee  my  wishful  arms  I  reach. 


®t)c    (Cross. 

I  AM  linked  to  the  cross  of  Jesus 
By  golden  fetters  of  love, 
Till  the  crown  the  cross  replaces 
In  God's  happy  land  above. 

IT 


l6z  THE  CROSS. 


'Tis  the  holy  bond  of  union 
Between  my  Saviour  and  me ; 

'Tis  only  by  bearing  it  daily 
His  heavenly  face  I  see. 

How  often  I  looked  upon  it 
As  a  ponderous,  gloomy  thing, 

So  heavy  to  lift  and  to  carry, 
It  could  only  weariness  bring. 

But  when  I  stooped  to  the  burden, 
And  took  it  within  my  arms, 

I  found  it  grew  easy  to  carry, 
I  saw  it  had  hidden  charms. 

And  as  I  carried,  and  carried  it, 

Daily  uplifting  it  high, 
Before  I  knew,  it  had  lifted  me 

Between  the  earth  and  the  sky. 

Under  me  now  is  the  world, 

I  stand  upon  Zion's  crest, 
Linked  to  the  cross  forever, 

Behind  it  I  sweetly  rest. 

'Tis  the  guide-board  pointing  us  onward 
O'er  the  path  that  the  Saviour  trod, 

The  passport  through  heaven's  gate-way 
To  the  city  of  our  God. 

I  am  linked  to  the  cross  of  Jesus 
By  the  golden  bands  of  love, 

Till  a  crown  the  cross  replaces 
In  the  heavenlv  land  above. 


HYMN.  163 


£)  2  m  n . 

O  CHRIST,  Thy  pitying  heart 
With  mournfulness  doth  melt, 
Because  from  care  I  will  not  part, 
Though  Thou  in  me  hast  dwelt. 

O  Christ,  dear  loving  Lord, 

I  would  that  I  could  lean ; 
Yet,  Christ,  my  life,  my  God  adored, 

How  can  I  Thee  demean  ? 

O  Christ,  my  dearest  friend, 
Toward  whom  my  longings  tend, 

From  Heaven  to  me  Heaven's  whiteness  send 
Heaven's  virtues  in  me  blend. 

Then  Christ,  Thou  Crucified, 
Perchance  with  trembling  heart, 

Myself  in  Thee  I'll  dare  to  hide, 
And  let  Thee  bear  my  part. 

O  Christ,  whose  love,  so  deep, 

Is  fathomless  as  space, 
E'en  while  I  long,  e'en  while  I  weep, 

Thou  ofler'st  me  Thy  grace. 

O  Christ,  dear  Lord,  dear  love, 

Thou  sanctity  of  peace, 
Now  while  I  linger,  from  above 

Thou  sendest  sweet  release. 


164  BE  STILL  IN  GOD. 


Dear  Christ,  Thou  patient  heart, 
Thou  me,  defiled,  hast  blest. 

No  longer  can  I  bear  my  part ; 
I  enter  into  rest. 

Lo  !  where  is  sin — is  fear  ? 

How  near  Thou  art — so  near ! 
Sin,  self,  the  world,  can  not  appear 

When  Thy  dear  voice  I  hear. 


Be  Still  in  ©ob. 

BE  still  in  God  !    Who  rests  on  Him 
Enduring  peace  shall  know, 
And  with  a  spirit  fresh  and  free 
Through  life  shall  cheer'ly  go. 
Be  still  in  faith  !     Forbear  to  seek 

Where  seeking  naught  avails, 
Unfold  thy  soul  to  that  pure  light 
From  heaven,  which  never  fails. 

Be  still  in  love  !    Be  like  the  dew 

That,  falling  from  the  skies, 
On  meadows  green,  in  thousand  cups, 

At  morning  twinkling  lies  ! 
Be  still  in  conduct,  striving  not 

For  honor,  wealth,  or  might ! 
Who  in  contentment  breaks  his  bread 

Finds  favor  in  God's  sight. 


THOMA  S  DID  YMUS.  1 65 


Be  still  in  sorrow  !    "  As  God  wills!" 

Let  that  thy  motto  be, 
Submissive  'neath  His  strokes  receive 

His  image  stamped  on  thee. 
Be  still  in  God  !    Who  rests  on  Him 

Enduring  peace  shall  know, 
And  with  a  spirit  glad  and  free 

Through  night  and  grief  shall  go. 


Stomas  Dibgrnus. 

LOOKING  backward,  backward,  across  the  flood 
of  years 
To  where  the  glorious  company  of  early  saints  ap- 
pears, 
I  see,  with  piercing  vision  and  eager,  outstretched 

hands, 
Questioning,  reasoning,  arguing,  Thomas  the  Doubt- 
er stands. 
"  The  Lord  hath  risen,  hath  stood  among  us  here, 
Hath  conquered  death  that  we  no  more  may  grieve  " — 
"  Unless  I  see  Him,  touch  the  wound  of  spear, 
And  view  the  nail  prints — I  will  not  believe !" 
"  The  holy  women  heard  the  angels  tell 
How  He  hath  burst  the  bondage  of  the  tomb. 
Hast  thou  not  heard  thy  brethren  speak,  as  well, 
Of  that  strange  meeting  in  the  Upper  Room  ? 
And  when  toward  Emmaus  they  slowly  walked 
The  risen  Saviour  joined  them  on  the  way, 
How  burned  their  hearts  within  them  as  they  talked  ! " 
Poor,  doubting  Thomas  sadly  utters  :  "  Nay, 
Unless  mine  eyes  shall  see  the  bloody  stain, 


1 66  MY  HELP. 


Unless  I  see  the  print  the  sword  did  leave, 
Unless  my  fingers  press  the  wounded  side 
And  touch  the  thorn-marks — I  can  not  believe 

Lo !  as  he  speaks  a  gracious  Presence  stands 
Within  their  midst,  and  meekly  bows  His  head, 
All  torn  with  thorns,  and  shows  those  tender  hands 
And  pierced  side,  which  for  our  sins  had  bled. 
"  Come  hither,  Thomas,  thrust  thy  doubting  hand 
Into  the  side  once  wounded  for  thy  sake ; 
View  the  sad  brow  pressed  by  the  thorny  band, 
And  let  the  sight  thy  faithless  heart-strings  break." 

Ah,  the  loved  voice,  the  well-known,  tender  smile ! 
Thomas  the  Doubter  bends  the  adoring  knee. 
"  My  Lord,  my  God,  forgive  Thy  stubborn  child  ; 
Grant  me  the  blessing  of  sweet  faith  in  Thee  I" 
Lord,  have  I  not,  like  Thomas,  doubted  Thee  ? 
Doubted  Thy  power,  Thy  goodness,  and  Thy  love ; 
Doubted  that  Thou  from  sin  could  set  me  free ; 
Doubted  the  voice  that  called  me  from  above  ? 
Melt  my  hard  heart  and  break  my  stubborn  will ; 
Wean  me  from  thoughts  that  trouble  and  deceive ; 
Oh,  let  mine  be  the  blessing  promised  still 
To  those  who,  having  seen  not,  yet  believe  ! 


ill  JJ    i)  C  I  p  . 

OGOD,  my  Help!  my  trust 
Shall  ever  be  in  Thee  ! 
In  every  sharp  distress, 
Comfort  Thou  me. 


UNUSED   SPICES.  167 


When  fiercely  fast  the  darts 
Surely  hurled  by  grievous  fate, 

My  quivering  heart  assail 
With  demon  hate — 

When,  O  my  Helper,  God, 
Helpless,  I  cry  to  Thee, 

Come,  with  Thy  saving  power, 
Conquer  for  me. 

When  bruised,  sore  dismayed, 
And  overwhelmed,  I  flee 

To  Thy  sure  refuge,  Lord, 
Shelter  Thou  me. 

Oh,  whither  shall  I  go, 
My  God,  if  not  to  Thee  ? 

My  Help,  my  Hope,  my  All, 
Oh,  welcome  me ! 


Unuscb  Spices. 

"Now  upon  the  first  day  of  the  week,  very  early  in  the  morning, 
they  came  unto  the  sepulchre,  bri):ging  the  s/>ices  which  they  had 
prepared." — Luke  xxiv.  1. 

WHAT  said  those  women  as  they  bore 
Their  fragrant  gifts  away? 
The  spices  that  they  needed  not 
That  resurrection  day  ? 


1 68  UNUSED   SPICES. 


Did  Mary  say  within  her  heart, 
Our  work  hath  been  in  vain  ? 

Or,  counting  o'er  the  spices  bought, 
Of  so  much  waste  complain  ? 

Not  so,  for  though  the  risen  Lord 

Their  spices  did  not  need, 
Not  unrewarded  was  the  love 

That  planned  the  reverent  deed. 

For  though  unused  their  fragrant  store, 
Yet  well  might  they  rejoice, 

Since  they  the  first  who  saw  the  Lord, 
The  first  who  heard  His  voice. 

Sweet  story,  hast  thou  not  some  truth 

For  my  impatient  heart ; 
Some  lesson  that  shall  stay  with  me 

Its  comfort  to  impart  ? 

Have  I  not  gathered  in  the  past, 

In  days  that  are  no  more, 
Of  spices  sweet,  and  ointment  rare, 

What  seemed  a  precious  store  ? 

A  little  knowledge  I  had  gained, 

A  little  strength  and  skill. 
I  thought  to  use  them  for  my  Lord, 

If  such  should  be  His  will. 

Alas !  my  store  unused  hath  been. 

The  strength  I  prized  hath  gone ; 
My  weary  hands  have  lost  their  skill, 

And  yet  my  life  goes  on. 


A  SOXG  OF  SOLACE.  169 


In  all  the  busy  work  of  life 

I  have  but  scanty  share, 
And  scanty  is  the  service  done 

For  Him  whose  name  I  bear. 

So  many  hopes  and  plans  have  died 

In  weariness  and  pain, 
My  heart  cries  out  in  sore  distress : 

"  Was  all  my  work  in  vain  ?  " 

Be  still,  sad  heart,  thy  hopes  and  plans 

Are  known  to  One  divine ; 
He  knoweth  all  thou  wouldst  have  done 

Had  greater  strength  been  thine. 

My  unused  spices  !     Dearest  Lord, 
They  were  prepared  for  Thee, 

Yet  if  for  them  Thou  hast  no  need, 
Let  love  my  offering  be. 


Gi  Gong  of  Solace. 

THOU  sweet  hand  of  God  that  woundest  my  heart, 
Thou  makest  me  smile  while  Thou  makest  me 
smart ; 
It  seems  as  if  God  were  at  ball-play — and  I, 
The  harder  He  strikes  me,  the  higher  I  fly. 

I  own  it :  lie  bruises,  He  pierces  me  sore. 
The  hammer  and  chisel  affect  me  no  more. 
Shall  I  tell  you  the  reason  ?     It  is  that  I  see 
The  Sculptor  will  carve  out  an  angel  from  me. 


i;o  THE  BRIDGE  OF  LIFE. 


I  shrink  from  no  suffering,  how  painful  soe'er, 
When  once  I  can  feel  that  my  God's  hand  is  there ; 
For  soft  on  the  anvil  the  iron  shall  glow, 
When  the  smith  with  his  hammer  deals  blow  upon 
blow. 

God  presses  me  hard,  but  He  gives  patience  too, 
And  I  say  to  myself :  "  Tis  no  more  than  my  due ; " 
And  no  tone  from  the  organ  can  swell  on  the  breeze 
Till  the  organist's  fingers  press  down  on  the  keys. 

So  come,  then,  and  welcome,  the  blow  and  the  pain  ; 
Without  them  no  mortal  can  Heaven  attain ; 
For  what  can  the  sheaves  on  the  barn  floor  avail 
Till  the  thresher  shall  beat  out  the  chaff  with  his  flail  ? 

'Tis  only  a  moment  God  chastens  with  pain, 
Joy  follows  on  sorrow  like  sunshine  on  rain ; 
Then  bear  thou  what  God  on  thy  spirit  shall  lay, 
Be  dumb,  but  when  tempted  to  murmur,  then  pray. 


®l)c  Sribgc  of  £ifc. 

ACROSS  the  rapid  stream  of  seventy  years, 
The  slender  bridge  of  human  life  is  thrown  ; 
The  past  and  future  form  its  mouldering  piers : 
The  present  moment  is  its  frail  key-stone ; 

From  "dust  thou  art"  the  arch  begins  to  rise, 
"To  dust"  the  fashion  of  its  form  descends, 

"Shalt  thou  return,"  the  higher  curve  implies, 
In  which  the  first  to  the  last  lowncss  bends. 


THE  BRIDGE  OF  LIFE.  I  7 1 


Seen  by  youth's  magic  light  upon  the  arch, 
How  lovely  does  each  far-off  scene  appear ! 

But,  ah  !  how  changed  when  on  the  onward  march, 
Our  weary  footsteps  bring  the  vision  near ! 

'Twas  fabled  that  beneath  the  rainbow's  foot 
A  treasure  lay,  the  dreamer  to  bewitch  : 

And  many  wasted  in  the  vain  pursuit 

The  golden  years  that  would  have  made  them  rich* 

So  where  life's  arch  of  many  colors  leads, 
The  heart  expects  rich  wealth  of  joy  to  find ; 

But  in  the  distance  the  bright  hope  recedes, 
And  leaves  a  cold  gray  waste  of  care  behind. 

A  sunlit  stream  upon  its  bosom  takes 

The  inverted  shadow  of  a  bridge  on  high, 

And  thus  the  arch  in  air  and  water  makes 
One  perfect  circle  to  the  gazer's  eye. 

So  'tis  with  life  :  the  things  that  do  appear 
Are  fleeting  shadows  on  time's  passing  tide, 

Cast  by  the  sunshine  of  a  higher  sphere 

From  viewless  things  that  changelessly  abide. 

The  real  is  but  the  half  of  life  ;  it  needs 

The  ideal  to  make  a  perfect  whole ; 
The  sphere  of  sense  is  incomplete,  and  pleads 

The  closer  union  with  the  sphere  of  soul. 

All  things  of  use  are  bridges  that  conduct 

To  things  of  faith,  which  give  them  truest  worth  : 

And  Christ's  own  parables  do  us  instruct 
That  heaven  is  but  the  counterpart  of  earth. 


172  'OF  LITTLE  FAITH." 


The  pier  that  rests  upon  this  shore's  the  same 
As  that  which  stands  upon  the  further  bank : 

And  fitness  for  our  duties  here  will  frame 
A  fitness  for  the  joys  of  higher  rank. 

Oh,  dark  were  life  without  heaven's  sun  to  show 
The  likeness  of  the  other  world  in  this ! 

And  bare  and  poor  would  be  our  lot  below 
Without  the  shadow  of  a  world  of  bliss. 

Then  let  us,  passing  o'er  life's  fragile  arch, 
Regard  it  as  a  means,  and  not  an  end ; 

As  but  the  path  of  faith  on  which  we  march 
To  where  all  glories  of  our  being  tend. 


INDEX   TO   FIRST   LINES. 

PAGK 

Above  the  trembling  elements mrs.  a.  L.  price.  23 

Across  the  rapid  stream  of  seventy  years 17c 

After  the  shower  the  tranquil  sun no 

After  the  storm,  a  calm 100 

Ah  !  little  I'll  reck,  when  the  journey  is  o'er e.  s.  w.  90 

A  little  pause  in  life  while  daylight  lingers 43 

A  little  while  with  tides  of  dark  and  light 138 

All  day,  all  night  I  can  hear  the  jar 85 

All  day   the  wind  with   bitter  breath  had  with  the   trees  been 

plying L.  L.  w.  86 

An  easy  thing,  O  Po.ver  Divine  !    130 

A  pilgrim  am  I  on  my  way E.  foxton'.  80 

As  flows  the  river 45 

As  one  who  sails  'neath  Southern  stars 33 

A  sweeter  song  than  e'er  was  sung elh anor  kirk.  82 

Behold,  I  knock  !     'Tis  piercing  cold  abroad 52 

Being  perplexed,  I  say anna  warner.  25 

Be  still  in  God— who  rests  in  Him.     from  the  German  of  julius 

STURM..  164 

Bewildered,  Father,  at  Thy  feet  I  fall  to-day. mary  b.  dodge.  148 

Blindfolded  and  alone  I  stand Helen  hunt.  158 

Christ  never  asks  of  us  such  busy  labor n 

Closer,  my  child,  to  Me 128 

Cometh  the  night,  wherein  no  man  may  labor 73 

Come  to  us  Lord  of  love  and  light 66 

Come  ye  yourselves  apart  awhile  and  rest e.  h.  78 

Dear  Master,  I  am  sitting  at  Thy  feet 161 

Each  morn  on  awakening marianne  farningham.  29 

Fear  not,  O  troubled  heart,  to  take  on  trust m.  s.  34 

For  gladsome  summer  days hetta  l.  h.  ward.  44 

For  the  joy  set  before  thee 48 

(173) 


174  INDEX  TO  FIRST  LIXES. 


From  the  fine  fret  of  little  cares Elizabeth  stuart  phelps.  132 

From  an  old  English  parsonage  down  by  the  sea 139 

Give  me  the  lowest  place  :  not  that  \  dare. Christiana  g.  rossetti.  8 

God  called  me  in  the  morning  of  my  day 130 

He  that  findeth  his  life  shall  lose  it C.  b.  le  row  (?)  qo 

Hidden  with  Christ,  as  the  busy  brain c.  b.  le  row  95 

His  will  be  done  :  thou  canst  not  pause  or  shrink,  .william  higgs  60 

How  sweet,  how  passing  sweet 65 

I  am  linked  to  the  cross  of  Jesus MRS.  e.  p.  leland.  161 

I  am  not  strong,  my  Father Marianne  farningham.  96 

I  am  not  worthy,  is  not  this  the  thought e.  r.  s.  80 

I  am  so  weak,  dear  Lord  !  I  can  not  stand 89 

I  asked  of  God  a  single  gift mrs.  maggie  b.  peeke.  62 

I  heard  a  voice  in  the  night kev.  Washington  gladden.  133 

\{  all  our  lives  were  one  broad  glare j.  besemeres.  134 

If  when  I  kneel  to  pray Charles  f.  RICHARDSON.  S4 

I  know  my  God  He  hath  no  need  of  me r.  r.  bowker.  120 

I  know  not — the  way  is  so  misty 75 

I  know  not  what  Thou  dost,  all,  all  seems  dark.  .Marianne  farn- 
ingham. 154 

I  knelt  before  my  Father's  throne  with  sins  and  cares  opprest 

e.  c.  It.  117 

I  lay  me  down  at  night  in  peaceful  sleep calista  l.  grant.  157 

In  a  pleasant  upper  chamber 63 

In  the  horror  of  great  darkness c.  P.  54 

I  said,  "  Sweet  Master,  hear  me  pray  ".. .  .HARRIRT  m'ewen  kim- 

bai.l  2i 

I  saw  two  candles  ;  one  unlighted  lay rev.  wade  ROBINSON.  73 

I  sometimes  feel  the  thread  of  life  is  slender  .hezekiah  butter- 
worth.  8 

I  sought  Thee  when  my  heart  was  low 114 

Is  the  road  very  dreary 72 

It  is  the  evening  hour 84 

I  would  be  quiet,  Lord julia  c.  r.  dorr.  14 

I  would  that  I  were  fairer,  Lord 24 

Lead  me,  O  Lord MRS.  M.  f.  butts.  105 

Life  hath  its  barren  years ISADOK  I  C.  GILBBRT.  144 

Like  a  blind  spinner  in  the  sun HELBM  hint.  6c 

Lord,  dost  Thou  care  to  have  my  soul 127 

Ix>rd,  let  me  talk  with   Thee  of  all  I  do E13 

Iyjrd,  open  the  door,  for  I  f.iltcr LUCY  LARCOM.  5 


INDEX  TO  FIRST  LINES.  175 


Look  no  more  within J.  B.  RANKIN,  D.D.  141 

Looking  backward,  backward,  across  the  flood  of  years,  .mrs.  e.  a. 

MATTHEWS.  165 

More  Holiness  give  me II2 

Much  more  than  this— O  loving  Christ 32 

My  God,  I'd  rather  look  to  Thee eliza  scudder.  69 

My  God,  while  journeying  to  Canaan's  land *3 

My  soul  fast  cleaveth  to  the  dust canon  bell,  d.d.  77 

My  sleepless  eyes  were  dim  with  tears 7° 

My  summons  may  come  in  the  morning 76 

Nay,  Friend,  endure  with  meekness *42 

Night's  shadows  lengthen 'till  they  meet  and  close 15 

Not  as  the  world   64 

Not  in  myself,  O  Lord  !  not  mine  the  good MARION  CONTHONY  95 

Oh,  for  a  mind  more  clear  to  see phcebe  carey.  115 

Oh,  fragile  bark,  upon  an  unknown  sea 58 

Oh,  gentle  sleep  !  the  gracious  gift  and  blest GENEVIEVE  M.  J. 

IRONS.  57 

Oh,  ask  not  Thou,  how  shall  I  bear lady  TEIGNMOUTH.  41 

O  Christ,  Thy  pitying  heart may  h.  norris.  163 

O  God,  my  help,  my  trust mary  e.  c.  WYETH.  166 

O  heart,  too  deeply  loving 3-) 

O  strong-barred  gate mrs.  m.  f.  butts.  21 

Oh,  for  a  vision  and  a  voice  to  lead  me 106 

Oh,  for  the  Seeing  eye mary  e.  bradley.  132 

One  night  upon  a  couch  of  pain.    HANNAH  more  johnson.  102 

Only  a  blade  of  grass Margaret.  70 

Only  a  word  for  the  Master charlotte  Murray.  27 

On  the  mount  cf  contemplation 36 

Oh,  say  not  so  !  my  heart,  with  sorrow  swelling j.  g.  f.  67 

Oh,  the  bitter  shame  and  sorrow theo.  monod.  145 

O  Thou  whom  we,  in  Faith,  are  taught  to  call 146 

Rest!     Rest! mary  b.  sleight.  108 

Rest,  weary  soul,  the  penalty  is  borne 153 

Sitting  in  the  shadow  singing. .    37 

Something,  my  God,  for  Thee f.  n    p.  129 

Some  hearts  are  like  a  quiet  \illage  street miss  blatciiley.  122 

So  should  we  live  that  every  hour 31 

So  hard  !  so  hard  !     All  though  the  weary  day 126 

Still  are  the  ships  that  in  haven  ride 11 


i76 


IXDEX  TO  FIRST  LIXES. 


Tell  him  all  the  failures E.  R.  H.  152 

The  boat  that  bore  the  Master  had  crossed  the  silver  sea 149 

The  course  of  the  weariest  river 53 

The  day  dies  slowly  in  the  western  sky H.  M.  56 

The  day  is  passed  that  seemed  so  wearisome...  .mrs.  marv  spring 

WALKER.  I 

The  Easter  praises  may  falter mary  lowe  DICKENSON.  16 

The  limpid  waters  of  the  sacred  lake a.  f.  1 .  iS 

The  Master  calls  thee  !     Oh,  those  blessed  words lw  COUSIN 

ALICl•..,'  123 

The  morning  breaks  in  clouds,  the  rain  is  falling 22 

The  night  is  dark,  but  God,  my  God. . . mrs.  HELEN  e.  BROWN.  109 

The  snow  was  drifting  o'er  the  hills. W.  H.  D.  A.  155 

There  are  shadows  near  every  pathway C.  A.  ogden.  28 

There  is  a  thought  upon  my  bosom  stealing,  .rev.  f.  t.  pomeroy.  43 

The  tide  is  out MARY  W.  m' LAIN.  92 

The  mistakes  of  my  life  are  many 111 

The  little  boat  went  gliding  on. john  Harris.  121 

They  are  gathering  homewaid  from  every  land 125 

Thou  givest,  Lord,  full  measure anna  shiiton.  S3 

Think  not  alone  of  what  the  Lord  hath  taken.,  e.  Elizabeth  lay  152 

Thou  sweet  hand  of  God  that  woundest  my  heart from  the 

GERMAN.  169 

'Tis  like  a  narrow  valley  land 51 

'Tis  not  its  blood  that  bursts  the  vine 35 

To  search  for  truth  and  wisdom 119 

To  watch,  to  work,  to  wait 147 

Up  from  the  dead  He  comes  ;  no  bands  might  bind  Him M.  E. 

WINSLOW.  46 

Up  the  long  slope  of  this  low  sandy  shore 14 

We  know  not  what  is  expedient 7 

We  look  with  scorn  on  Peter's  thrice-told  lie paul  h.  hayne.  124 

We  pray  not,  Lord,  that  we  may  never  lack 91 

We  would  not  always  come  to  God s.  k.  99 

What  God  decrees,  child  of  His  love 104 

What  said  those  women  as  they  bore m.  h.  howland.  167 

When  evening  choirs  the  praises  hymned  ..rev.  w.  b.  Robertson.  159 

Where  art  thou  gone,  oh,  my  believing  heart 101 

Years  came  and  went,  and  with  me  all  was  well 131 


